Futile Beholder
by xenascully
Summary: What if Tony's explanation to Ziva in False Witness was a cover for what was really going on?
1. The Class Clown

**Futile Beholder**

**Rated K+ (I'm not even sure. If it changes, I'll update the rating)**

**Summary: What if Tony's explanation to Ziva in False Witness was a cover for what was really going on?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters. **

**A/N: Trying something a bit new for me. I'll be posting an abnormally small chapter per day, every day, until it's finished. :) Enjoy!**

**11 00 11 00 11**

Tony DiNozzo was excellent at undercover work. This wasn't news to anyone at NCIS. In fact, that fact, alone, had caused him to wonder how it was, exactly, that no one from his team had attempted to question him.

Well, no one but Ziva, of course. That wasn't too much of a surprise, really. She was nosy. Ziva the nosy ninja chick. Can't keep it out of anyone's business, and you're pretty much stuck divulging whatever information she's after. Because, if you don't, she will continue to pry until she has it.

So that's what he'd done. He'd divulged. Only she hadn't caught on to the fact that what he'd told her was just another elaborate cover-up for what he'd been hiding. He honestly couldn't believe she'd accepted the answer. It was so...last moment, thought up. Tony had been trying to keep his mind busy; sharp and without room for thought, that entire day. What time he hadn't spent endlessly working, he'd spent trying desperately not to think about what he was avoiding thinking about. There hadn't been _time_ to think up a cover story.

The Bitner story was true. But it wasn't what had him going through the motions today. It seemed to be a pretty convincing cover story, however, where Ziva was concerned. She got that smug inner-feeling of having accomplished the goal she'd set out for herself. And then gave an almost convincing pep-talk in attempt to make him feel better.

It caught him a little off guard, he had to admit; her response. It was kind. And maybe she'd just said it to be nice, or to snap him out of it. But it had made him think for just a moment, that she cared.

_ "____You are Tony DiNozzo. The class clown. And that is why we love you,"_she'd said.

They loved him? Maybe that was just an expression. 'Course; it had to be. They'd worked together a while now. You get close to people, he guessed.

Still, the thought had bounced around in his head for a minute, and somehow ended up conflicting with the one thing he'd been trying _not_ to think of that day. He'd found himself blinking back tears and glancing over at Ziva to make sure she hadn't noticed. And as he looked at her, he pondered what she'd said again, wondering if, for just a moment, she'd really meant it.

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	2. When a Dog Doesn't Eat

The prank had been an excellent way to not have to go home that night. He'd stayed at the office to keep himself busy, and wanted something to not only explain why, but also an elaborate distraction from anymore questions. He just wanted to work; keep his mind away from the one thing he didn't want to allow to think about. Questions only made him remember that he was trying to forget.

Of course, he hadn't really meant to stop being 'Tony DiNozzo'. It's just that, in order to distract himself completely, he needed to keep himself busy. And the level of busy he'd ended up needing to keep himself, didn't allow for much time to think of clever quips and movie references. As far as his interaction with his teammates, they were damned-near automated. Every now and then, he'd notice McGee or Ziva becoming agitated, and he'd give them something to make up for the fact that he'd pretty much done everything himself; handing off the remote or giving credit for things he had done himself.

Whilest he'd hoped it would make them back off a bit, it only seemed to worry them more. But he'd barely had time to freak out about that before forcing his train of thought back to business.

He was getting pretty tired, and it was barely lunchtime.

Tony had managed to sneak a shower in the gym locker room fairly early that morning, after catching a couple hours of sleep. Making himself appear well-rested wasn't something new to him. He'd managed to keep up the facade up to this point, anyway.

But he couldn't deny the fatigue that suddenly crept up on him.

Tony heard his teammates readying to leave for lunch, and he rubbed his palms against his eyes in order to fend off what he now realized was an impending headache.

"You wanna grab something to eat with us?" McGee asked, now standing in front of Tony's desk looking a bit concerned.

"Not too hungry, Tim," he said without looking up. "Raincheck, okay?"

McGee furrowed a brow and glanced at Ziva before looking back at his mentor. "'Kay. I'll bring you back a coffee..."

"Thanks, Probie," Tony glanced up at him and nodded before leaning back in his chair.

Tony was unaware of the three sets of eyes on him as he turned to retrieve something from the file cabinet. But Gibbs motioned for the two younger agents to head out; a silent gesture that he'd look into it. He waited until the elevator doors closed the other half of his team inside its shaft before looking back over at his agent.

"You sick, DiNozzo?" he asked, hoping for a real answer this time.

Tony's eyes shot up to meet his. "Told you I was fine, Boss," he insisted with a slightly furrowed brow. "Do I _look_ sick?"

"Ya look tired," he replied with a raised brow. "And you've done enough work the past few days to warrant the rest of the day to rest."

"We work non-stop all the time, Gibbs," Tony retorted, narrowing his eyes. "I get tired _a lot_. What's so different now? Why is everyone on my case?"

"What's different is that you're not _you_ lately," he replied. "They say, it's when a dog doesn't eat..."

"Oh what, now I'm a dog?" he asked incredulously.

"DiNozzo..."

"No, I get it, Boss. Just...I'm not goin' home. But I'll take my lunch, okay?" he tried to compromise.

Gibbs considered him for a long moment, before finally giving in with a nod. Tony stood from his chair, not even bothering to grab his bag, and headed for the elevator...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	3. Questions

**A/N: Shout out to my anonymous reviewers, whom I cannot personally reply to; thanks so much, and glad to have you along for the ride :)**

**11 00 11 00 11**

Gibbs had decidedly finished up some paperwork before heading down to talk to Abby and see if she knew anything about what was going on with Tony. When the elevator opened to her floor, he was met with an eery silence; something completely unexpected of the forensic goth, and almost always reserved for seriously heinous times.

Quietly and cautiously, he entered the lab void of the usual blaring heavy metal something-or-other. Abby was at work on her computer and bobbing her head to music that was playing for only her to hear through her ear-buds connected to her mp3 player.

Gibbs approached her and set a hand on her arm in an attempt not to startle her. But she jumped a bit anyway and spun around to see him, immediately putting a finger to her mouth, signaling for him to remain quiet. He nodded in acknowledgment and raised an inquiring brow until she pull out her ear-buds.

"What's goin' on, Abs?" he asked in a low voice.

"Sshh," she insisted and began to sign to him instead. _"Tony is sleeping." _She pointed to her office and Gibbs maneuvered his head so that he could see around her desk to the agent sleeping on the futon. Tony was curled up on his side facing the wall, and perfectly still in what seemed to be a deep sleep.

Gibbs turned back to Abby's concerned face and signed, _"What's going on with him?"_

_ "He won't say. But something is definitely up. He hasn't been himself for days. I'm really worried."_

_ "We all are," _he replied.

_"Will you try to talk with him?" _she asked. _"He trusts you, Gibbs. If he won't tell _me_ what's going on, you're the only person who might be able to get it out of him."_

_ "I'll try, Abby. I've already asked, but-"_

_ "He insists he's fine," _she interrupted. _"But that's a lie. There's something up with him; I know it."_

"Okay, Abs," he whispered and put his hand on her neck as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Let me know when he's up."

Gibbs turned to leave the lab, glancing one more time at the motionless agent in Abby's office. He boarded the elevator and hit the button, standing back as the doors closed, and he pondered the possible reasons why Tony might be acting the way he was.

Tired and passive...he'd been that way often when he was undercover. But even then, he'd at least attempted to be himself. But maybe this was the hint.

Maybe DiNozzo was trying to tell him something. He'd never wanted to lie to him about the Frog op. And by being _himself_, he'd essentially been strengthening that lie the entire time.

Before he was even completely conscious of it, Gibbs found himself climbing the stairs up toward Vance's office.

In a calm state, he entered the reception area and stood patiently as she called in to Vance. She seemed a bit surprised that Gibbs was standing there as he should be, but did her best not to look too shocked.

"You can go in, Agent Gibbs," she said quietly.

He gave her a short nod and headed into the office, silently closing the door behind him.

"What can I do for you, Gibbs?" Vance asked from the couch where he sat eating his lunch.

Gibbs approached him and sat down on the armchair beside the couch. "You can tell me somethin' I wanna know, Leon. No BS."

Vance set his fork down and straightened up a bit, narrowing his eyes in curiosity. "What would that be, Jethro?"

"I want you to tell me if you've got DiNozzo workin' a case for you..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	4. Trusting Vance

"A case?" Vance cocked his head.

"Undercover," Gibbs elaborated.

"If I did, I wouldn't tell you," he said. Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "But I don't, so you can stop tryin' to set me on fire with your mind," he told him as he picked up his fork again. Gibbs looked away slightly at the information. Part of him didn't want to believe Vance. But he trusted Leon to an extent, and trusted what he'd just told him. "Somethin' goin' on with him?" the director's question pulled Gibbs' attention back to him.

"Not sure yet," he replied, leaning back in the chair.

"But your gut's tellin' you there is." It wasn't a question, but something Vance could see in the agent's eyes. Gibbs just met his gaze in response. "I admit to noticing things have been a lot quieter in the bullpen the last few days, and that he's gotten a lot done over that course of time. But I figured it was a stunt to pull off that elaborate prank he pulled this morning."

"I thought so, too, for a little while. But then he got up and started cleaning it up without me sayin' anything," Gibbs told him.

"Maybe he's just gotten better at predicting what you're gonna ask him."

"Maybe," Gibbs cocked his head and looked down at the man's lunch. "I'll let you get back to your meal. Sorry to have bothered ya, Leon," he said as he stood.

"You're okay," he insisted.

Gibbs let himself out of the office, giving the receptionist a small nod before heading out toward the stairs.

He thought back on when Tony had been cleaning up the mess from his prank, as he started his walk down the stairs and looked down at their desks. After a minute or two of cleaning, McGee and Ziva started to help, but Tony insisted that he do it himself; that this wasn't part of the prank, and is was _his_ job to clean up the aftermath.

Tony had said it in a calm voice, without any bite or bitterness. And that's when they realized that he'd fallen right back into that strange state he'd been in for an uncomfortable amount of days now...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Tim and Ziva arrived back from lunch to an empty bullpen. McGee set a cup of promised coffee on Tony's desk with a furrowed brow, before heading to his own and setting his bag down behind it. "You don't think they got called out, do you?" he asked Ziva.

"They would've called us," she reminded him.

"Yeah," he shook his head at his own temporary folly, before sitting down and hitting the spacebar on his keyboard to shut down the screensaver.

McGee glanced, worriedly, at Tony's desk again. Ziva might've been persuaded by the senior field agent's explanation for his recent change in attitude; which, after this morning, Ziva filled Tim in on. But McGee wasn't so satisfied with that answer.

Had the roles been reversed, and it was _him_ going through the situation with Bitner, Tony would've come over with beer and possibly a pizza, and told him to stop over-analyzing. Because clearly there was nothing for him to feel any way about, except maybe pity for the girl.

And that was exactly the right response; easy and realistic! Tony had had his fair share of women who turned a bit to the crazy side after having been with them, and they not get through their heads that it was just a fling or something for fun. What else do you pick up a guy in a bar or club for, anyway? Certainly not to find your future husband.

Of course, Tim had heard this from Tony on several occasions. Every time one of them went to crazy town, in fact. And Tony had to say it out loud...every time. If nothing else, he'd been annoyed. Maybe frustrated. But upset or depressed? Never... Not like this.

Gibbs chose that moment to walk out of the mens room toward his desk, and Tim looked up. "Boss," he greeted, "Where's Tony?"

"Takin' a break, McGee," he replied, vaguely. "You finish that report yet?"

"Uh...we just got back, Boss."

Gibbs looked at him for another moment before turning to look down at an open file. McGee let out a breath and got to work on his report.

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Find me on Facebook, and there's an RSS feed to tell you about updates, which is especially nice for those of you without accounts :) Just click 'Like' on my page. There's a link to it in my profile here on ff. **

**I've been updating a little sooner than the originally planned 24 hour marks, but it's because I may not update regularly between the 21-28, as I'll be out of town for the holiday! But my netbook will be with me, and I'll most likely have time at the end of each day, at least. Just covering my bases ;)**


	5. Oh Hell

Abby finished off her fourth Caf Pow of the day and suddenly felt the maddening need to urinate. Hopping a little 'pee-pee dance', she peeked into her office at the still-sleeping agent/best friend, before scurrying out of the lab toward the bathroom.

It was maybe five minutes later that she returned, bumping into Gibbs as he made his way out of the lab. "Oh! Sorry, Gibbs!" she apologized as they separated; his hands on her arms to steady her from falling over. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Came down to check on Tony," he replied. "Thought I told you to call me when he got up."

"I will!" she exclaimed. "He hasn't so much as rolled over though, since you left."

"He's not in your office, Abs," he narrowed his eyes at her.

Her eyes slowly widened and she pressed past him to hurry toward her office and see for herself. "Gibbs, he was here five minutes ago!" she said as she spun around to face him. "Where is he?"

But Gibbs had already pulled out his cell and dialed Tony's number.

A moment later, they heard a ringing coming from Abby's office. She turned and entered the room to follow the sound, crouched down, and found the phone amidst the blanket on the futon. She held it up for Gibbs to see through the glass.

Gibbs pulled his own phone away from his ear and ended the call without looking away from Abby...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: aaahaha! I'm such a jerk. Lolol! Don't worry; I'll update again tonight ;)**


	6. Cephalalgia

**A/N: A bit longer to make up for that ridiculously short one earlier ;)**

**11 00 11 00 11**

_**4 minutes earlier...**_

Tony awoke to a horrible, stabbing, pounding pain that enveloped his head like a giant pair of iron earmuffs. He rolled over and the pain only flared. He heard a groan that he realized, after a moment, had come from himself.

Stumbling from the futon, he grabbed his head in both of his hands and heard himself call out for Abby. Tony cracked open his eyes and immediately regretted it; the pain suddenly exploded. He needed help, and Abby wasn't there...he was alone...

Somehow, he summoned up the will to stand and blindly walk out of the lab without breaking anything in his path...

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Just...make it all private, Jimmy," Ducky told his assistant as he walked back and forth behind the office chair. "I don't want any more friend requests that cause me this amount of distraction. That wasn't supposed to be the point in any of this."

"Of course, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy Palmer scribbled onto his notepad. "But you realize that you can usually check out their profile _before_ accepting their request; check them out to make sure...?" the younger man focused past Ducky and out past the double doors before standing abruptly. "Tony?"

Ducky turned toward the doors as Tony stumbled in. "Anthony?" Ducky approached the agent in obvious pain, just as the younger man was about to collapse. He and Jimmy caught him and led him to the nearest cold table. "What's happened, Tony?" Ducky asked.

"D'nno," Tony's palms shielded his eyes from the light. "Hurts..."

"What hurts? Your eyes?" he asked.

"Head...'S bad, Duck... Pl's make it stop," he let out a breathy sob before the two men in scrubs helped to lower him to lie down.

"Jimmy," Ducky said in a lowered voice, "Dim the lights a bit, if you would please. And grab my bag from under my desk." He examined Tony's scalp as he talked. "Did you hit your head on something, dear boy?"

"Nnn..." he groaned.

"And this came about suddenly?"

"Woke up...was sleepin'...Abs' lab..."

"Hmm... I need to look at your eyes, Anthony," he gently pulled the agent's hands from his face, and Tony placed his balled up fists at his temples instead. Ducky carefully and gently pulled open each lid to check for any dilation or abnormality, and found none. He felt his forehead and found it was cool, more than anything. Face pale and pinched with pain, Tony's ailment seemed to bring Ducky to only one conclusion. "I believe you're suffering a migraine," he told him. "I'm certain that I have something I could give you, to see if it helps with the pain. You just lie there and I'll be right back."

"Not goin' anywhere," Tony whispered.

"Stay here with him a moment, Mr. Palmer," Ducky told his assistant, who nodded and went back to stand beside the table. Ducky left the morgue and went out into the empty hallway to pull out his cell phone. He pressed a speed-dial button and held the phone to his ear as he leaned back on the wall across from the glass doors.

_"Gibbs,"_ a stiff-voice rang out from the other line. _"Look, Duck, it's not the best time..."_

"This is important enough to interrupt, Jethro," the doctor insisted.

_"Alright."_

"Anthony came into the morgue just minutes ago-"

_"Tony's with you?"_ Gibbs sounded a bit relieved with a mixture of aggravation.

"Yes, he is. Did something happen today?"

_"What do ya mean, Duck?" _he asked. Ducky could hear the sound of elevator doors closing on the other line, and he looked up to see that the elevator was headed down.

"He came to me, perhaps unintentionally, in a great deal of pain. I believe he's suffering a migraine, and by the looks of it, a severe one. He's a bit disoriented at the moment. We have him lying down and I'm going to give him some medication. But I wanted to make you aware of that before I did anything, in case something happened that he isn't able to recall at the moment."

_"He was tired," _Gibbs told him. Then the elevator doors opened and Ducky pushed away from the wall and closed his phone to continue the conversation with the lead agent who now made his way toward him. "That's all I know, Duck. Somethin's been goin' on with him, lately. But he won't give anyone a straight answer."

"I've noticed a bit of a change in his behavior, as well," Ducky said, then walked side by side with Gibbs, back into the morgue.

"A _bit_?" Gibbs raised a brow as he glanced to his friend. Ducky cocked his head and gave a small grin before heading to his desk to retrieve the medication.

Gibbs walked over to the table where Tony now laid curled up on his side with his arms protectively covering over his face. Placing a hand gently on his shoulder, he leaned over until he was close enough to Tony's ear that he could speak very softly. "When you're not in so much pain," he began, "We're gonna talk, DiNozzo."

He felt Tony's arm tense. "B...Boss?"

"Sshh. Later," he told him, then moved his hand to gently and reassuringly squeeze the back of Tony's neck, letting him know that it wasn't meant as a threat.

"'M sorry," Tony whispered. Gibbs almost hadn't heard it. He narrowed his eyes, and Ducky came around to administer the medicine via syringe...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	7. Discovery

Tony hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until it came time to open his eyes. It took him a moment to realize where, exactly, he was. He laid there for a moment as he allowed his thoughts to collect.

"Are you feeling any better, Anthony?" Ducky's voice sounded somewhere beside him.

He turned his head toward him. "Think so," he furrowed his brow. "I...came down here with a headache..." he verified as he began to push himself up.

"Quite a severe one," Duck confirmed as he steadied the wavering agent. "You don't happen to have any idea what might've brought it on, now do you?"

Tony shook his head, closing his eyes through the sudden wave of dizziness. "I didn't sleep much last night," he told him. "And haven't eaten today."

"I suppose that could be part of the problem," the doctor told him. "You've also been running yourself ragged lately. Any particular reason for that?" Ducky asked carefully as he raised his brows.

Tony met his eyes then and his own flashed for a split second, incredulously. "What's that supposed to mean?" He glanced up at the clock and his eyes widened. "Oh my god... It's almost five?" he jumped down off of the table and nearly stumbled the rest of the way to the ground, had Ducky and Jimmy not been there to catch him a second time that day. "The hell ya give me, Ducky?" he asked as the room spun.

"Something to stop the pain," he replied vaguely. "Needless to say, there's no rush to get back upstairs. Jethro would've informed me, had a case come up."

_Jethro_. That's when Tony remembered that Gibbs had been there; seen him like that, and told him they'd talk later. But Tony didn't want to talk. Talking would mean he'd have to remember. And he didn't want to remember...

Ducky watched the conflicting array of emotions dance disturbingly around the younger man's face. But just as quickly, Tony seemed to shove whatever had been causing him these emotions, back down into whatever reserve pit he usually kept these kinds of thing in, and he straightened himself.

"Allow me to take you home, Anthony," Ducky said. "You obviously need rest-"

"I'm not going..." he started out angry, but stopped and took a breath. "I can't go home right now, Ducky."

"Why on earth not?"

"I just...please. Trust me, my apartment isn't the place to go, right now," even through his mask, the pleading in Tony's eyes was evident.

"Alright," Ducky conceded. "If you can't go there, I think I know someplace," he wagged a thoughtful finger and turned to Jimmy. "Mr. Palmer, would you be so kind as to escort Tony down to your car?"

"Uh..._my_ car, Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy asked, slightly confused.

"Yes, Jimmy. And whilest you're doing that, I'll go and make some verifications and give you a call as to where you might bring him..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Not that I have a problem with it, Duck," Gibbs told his friend after having heard the request that Tony stay at _his_ house for the night. "But what's wrong with _his_ place?"

"I'm not certain," he replied. "But he seemed very much unwilling to go back there. I don't think I would've been able to get him to agree to leave at all, had I not provided another option."

"Uh, Boss?" McGee looked up from his computer. "I found something."

Gibbs maneuvered around Tim's desk to lean over and look at the screen as the younger agent moved out of the way for him to read it. Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he focused on the small article.

Once read, his features slackened and he slowly stood. He glanced up at Ducky's questioning gaze and motioned for the doctor to read for himself. Then he looked over at Tim, who had a sad expression on his face, but also one of finally possibly understanding...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Okay, people! I'm outta here! Might have something else for you in the morning—who knows. But as I said, I'll be on vacation for the next week. There are no guarantees how often, if at all, that I'll be able to update, until I get back. But maybe if I get enough requests of encouragement to do so... ::hint:: rofl!**

**Have an awesome Christmas/whatever holiday you're celebrating right now! :) XOX! (In case I'm not back beforehand...)**


	8. Oh Christmas Tree

Ducky shook his head sadly, after reading the article. "Why wouldn't he have told us?" he asked, quietly, to no one in particular.

No one, in particular, had an answer. Sure, they all had thoughts, but they didn't feel as though they should voice their assumptions.

"Do you think this is why he's been so...off?" McGee asked, quietly. "I mean...do you think this really would cause him to be acting the way he's been?"

"I'm not for certain, Timothy," Ducky replied. "But it seems the timing would be right in line with when he began to show signs of strange behavior."

"What's wrong?" Ziva asked as she reentered the bullpen once finishing in the bathroom.

They all looked over at her for a moment. The Gibbs spoke. "McGee, you an' Ziva go over to Tony's apartment," he said, taking his keys out to give them the spare to the senior agent's home. "See if there's a reason he doesn't wanna go back there, before we jump to any conclusions." He turned specifically to Tim, "You can fill her in on the way."

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Jimmy asked his friend who'd decidedly begun to prepare the fireplace.

"I'm fine, Palmer," he insisted, a bit aggravated. "It's bad enough I'm being forced away from work. I don't need a babysitter to make my day complete."

"We're just worried about you, ya know?"

"Why is it that when I do a better job at everything, people get worried?" he said, turning to face the younger man. "I can't win, ya know? I can't be 'the class clown', as Ziva so delicately put it, without getting annoyed glances or looks of accusation that I'm not even _doing_ my work. But I get down to business and stop goofing off, and suddenly...suddenly there's something horribly wrong with DiNozzo?" he scoffed and stalked off toward the back patio to get some firewood.

A bit taken back by the outburst, Jimmy was frozen for a moment before going after him. "I- I'm sorry, Tony. I...didn't mean to make you angry..."

Tony paused in place where he went to grab some wood from the pile. He let out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "No...don't be sorry. I'm not pissed at you. Not pissed at all, really. Just...a little frustrated." He picked up the pile and turned around to meet his eyes. "Didn't mean to snap at you. But I'm fine here, by myself. I'll see ya later, okay?" he tried to summon a small smile to reassure him.

Jimmy returned the grin. "Okay. If you need anything...if your headache comes back, just call me, okay?"

"Yeah... Thanks, again, Jimmy."

The younger man nodded and turned to head back toward the front door. Tony followed slowly behind until splitting off toward the fireplace and dropping the wood down in front of it. He crouched down and put one of the logs in.

When he heard the door close, he closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in an attempt to force himself to think of something...anything but what was trying to force its way front and center...

**11 00 11 00 11**

McGee unlocked the door to Tony's apartment and let himself and Ziva inside. It was clear, as soon as they set foot inside, that something was very wrong.

"What the hell happened?" Tim asked out loud, though Ziva wouldn't have an answer that was anything more than an assumption.

"It looks as though someone robbed the place, perhaps," she said as they walked in.

There was a Christmas tree in the corner that had been knocked over; ornaments broken on the floor all around it. His home phone was shattered on the floor across the room; a small dent in the wall indicating he'd thrown it.

Ziva picked up the phone with her gloved hands and attempted to access the caller I.D. "I believe it is broken," she said with an annoyed raise of her brows.

"Let me see," Tim said, taking it from her and looking it over for a moment before deciding that there was probably no way to retrieve that information. "I can probably at least get the last number answered on this line. I just need to make a call," he pulled out his own phone as Ziva continued through the apartment.

Tony's bedroom was spotless; bed made and towels set out. The bathroom was neat as well. She was a bit surprised that her partner was so clean. But other than that, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

She left the room, closing the door behind her, and headed toward the kitchen, keeping quiet as Tim talked to someone on the phone.

The counter was completely cleared, but it seemed it was so because whatever had been up there, was now on the floor. Among the wreckage looked to be about a hundred homemade Christmas cookies and a few broken plates that they'd most likely been on. There was also a bottle of wine, though it hadn't broken. She picked it up and examined it for a moment before setting it back up on the counter and going to the fridge.

McGee came into the kitchen to see Ziva looking through the contents of the refrigerator. "It looks like everything one would need to make one of your traditional Christmas dinners," Ziva told him. "A turkey, several pies..." she thought it pointless to continue the list as she closed the door and turned toward McGee.

"Last number to call here," McGee told her, "Was the NYPD..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: I haven't even had breakfast! I hope you all are happy ;)**


	9. On My Shoulder

Tony finally got the log to catch fire and he sat back on his heels and watched it as it began to glow orange. Being alone with nothing to do, now that the fire was going, was making it difficult not to think.

It was only a matter of time now, Tony thought, until Gibbs found out what was bothering him. He would be a fool to believe Gibbs hadn't seen through his claims that everything was fine, after the migraine that ended him in the morgue for half the day. Gibbs would investigate, and he'd figure it out.

In a way, he was frustrated by that fact. But in all honesty, he didn't want to have to tell anyone. It wasn't any of their concern, and he certainly didn't want them to think it would affect him as much as it did. In reality, it really shouldn't. Or at least, it shouldn't _change_ him overnight, like Ziva had claimed he had.

Quickly, he forced these thoughts out of his mind; they were leading too closely to the thoughts that he was trying to avoid...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Gibbs left the office once McGee filled him in on what they'd discovered at Tony's apartment. Gibbs had done a little research, himself, and it was clear to him now that this had to be the root reason for Tony's behavior.

After pulling up into his driveway, Gibbs entered the house, quietly, and found Tony crouched in front of the fireplace with a poker, tending to one of the burning logs. A quick glance around the room told him there was little else the agent had been doing since he'd been brought here.

He entered a bit into the living room and waited a moment before speaking.

"What didn't ya tell me, Tony?" he asked, quietly.

Tony paused in his administrations to the fire. For a long moment, he was perfectly still, and Gibbs thought maybe he hadn't actually heard him. But then he spoke. "Last time he was here," he began, "He said he wanted us to be more like we used to be. More like a father and son..." he let out a small laugh and placed the poker back in its stand. "We even started talking more on the phone. Talkin' like family talks, ya know?" he stood but didn't turn his gaze from the fire. "He was gonna come for Christmas," he told him in a quieter voice. "It was gonna be the first..." his voice caught as he tried to breathe through the pain that flooded back into his reality.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, sympathizing with his agent, and took the few steps that brought him to Tony's side.

"I was real...excited, Boss," his voice cracked, but he didn't seem to notice. "Happy, even... I made...all the preparations. It was gonna be real nice; just like old times. But then...then I got that call..."

"I'm sorry, Tony," Gibbs told him, turning to face him.

Tony shook his head and tried to put on a smile. "Just...really harsh. I finally let myself believe I'm getting my father back, and he goes and..." he couldn't finish the sentence.

There was a moment of quiet before Gibbs replied, "I doubt he did it on purpose."

"Yeah," he sniffled. "Yeah, I know," he nodded.

The crackling of the fire was all that could be heard as they stood there silently. Gibbs studied Tony's profile. The younger man seemed to be struggling to keep control of what he'd been holding inside of himself this whole time. That's when he realized that he hadn't just been hiding it from _them_, but from himself as well.

He saw the moment Tony's resolve broke. His face morphed into the acceptance of sadness, and for a few seconds, Gibbs wasn't sure how to react.

"It's not fair..." Tony let out in a whisper, most likely to hide the fact that he was near tears.

Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a comforting embrace, resting the other hand on the back of the senior field agent's head. "I know," he told him, and felt the younger man's head fall to rest on his shoulder. "I know..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Merry Christmas! Wanted to get this written and out to you as my gift to you all for the holidays :) Have an awesome day!**


	10. Looking Back

_**Several days earlier...**_

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know," Tony sang along with his Dean Martin holiday album as he goofily danced about his apartment, adding finishing touches to the tree. "Where the treetops glisten, and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow..."

He was in a great mood. The day before, he'd talked with his father on the phone to verify that he was, indeed, coming into town in just a day now, and actually staying at Tony's place instead of a hotel, until the day after Christmas.

They'd been talking about it for a month, and though he'd expected an excuse to come up at any moment, his father had surprisingly shoved aside any other event that came his way. He even sounded quite excited on the phone before they ended the call.

Tony had waited until that night to run out and shop for this. Part of him wanted to wait to pick out a tree with his dad, but the kid in him couldn't stand to wait that long. That, and he really wanted to see the look on his dad's face when he walked in the room and saw the lights all strung up on it.

Now, not only were there lights, but he'd gone and put probably a hundred different ornaments on it. Some new things he'd gotten over the years, and a lot of older things he'd taken from his mother's collection years ago.

Plates of cookies were cooling on the counter, and everything they'd need for Christmas dinner was in the fridge. Music lists were waiting to be played, and a few good movies were laid out beside the player. Everything was perfect; exactly how he'd pictured it when he'd planned it all out. For so many years, he'd wanted this to happen. And now, he finally had his chance. There wasn't a single reason in the world not to go all out.

His decorating was interrupted by the ringing of his home phone. Factoring in the New York area code, he figured it was his father. He had a layover for the night in the big city and promised to give him a call when he got to his hotel. But just in case... "DiNozzo residence," he answered.

_"Am I speaking with Anthony DiNozzo Jr.?" the man on the other line asked._

"That's me," he replied with curiosity.

_"Sir, I'm Sgt. O'Hara with NYPD. I'm afraid I have some bad news."_

"NYPD? Bad news?" Tony shook his head in a bit of confusion.

_"I hate to bring this to you, seein' it's so close to Christmas and all..."_

"What is it? You got a case you need NCIS help with? I'm not exactly the person you should be calling..."

_"Uh...no, sir. I... I'm not sure what you mean. But uh... Sir, it's about your father."_

"My father? Oh geez...what'd he do, now?" he wiped a hand down his face.

_"He didn't do anything, sir. I'm callin' to inform you that he was checkin' in at his hotel and suffered a heart attack."_

"What?" his face blanched and he leaned heavily against the wall. "W- where is he? What hospital?"

_"Sir, I'm afraid he didn't make it," _the officer told him, sympathetically. _"We'll need you to come verify that it's really him, and to claim the body, of course. You're the only one listed in his emergency care list..."_

The voice faded as the ringing of disbelief took over Tony's ability to listen any further. "I'll be on the next flight out," he decided to tell him as he threw on his coat, grabbed his keys and wallet and hurried out the door...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Five hours later, found Tony reentering his apartment. He'd flown to NYC, identified his father's body just before his lawyer arrived to take care of arrangements, and returned home in a daze.

Walking in to the apartment was like a slap in the face, in addition to the horror of the evening. He hurried past the living room without even glancing at the brightly lit tree, and wandered into the kitchen, intent on getting a glass of water. But upon seeing the cookies laid out on the counter, something snapped inside of him.

Tony yelled out in a saddened rage, swiping the plates from their place on the counter top, and they crashed to the floor. He turned to get out of the room and only ended up back in the living room. The phone still sat on the coffee table. He picked it up and threw it across the room and spun around to pull down the mocking tree.

Once the ornaments crashed on the floor, sufficiently destroying everything he'd worked so hard on, the tears flowed freely and abundantly

His father was gone..forever. He would never have the family Christmas he'd always longed for. He'd never have his father...

It hurt too much.

He had to leave...get away from this feelings of dread and utter disappointment and despair. He'd suck it up and move on, just like his father had always taught him.

Tony DiNozzo would not let himself look weak...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Depressing chapter. Well, I'm leaving in the morning to head home. Pray we get there without problems! There's all kinds of bad weather, apparently, waiting for us. **


	11. Over Coffee

"You should've called me," Gibbs told Tony as they sat across the table from one another over a cup of coffee. "I would've gone with you."

"I was so convinced they'd made a mistake," he gave a small, embarrassed smile. "Besides, I wasn't gonna call you up so late in the evening just to drag you to a morgue in New York."

"You shouldn't have had to do that alone."

"I do a lot on my own, Boss. I've always done these things alone."

"But you don't have to," he told him. Tony looked down at his hardly touched coffee. "You know I care about you, Tony. Don't you? You're like a son to me," he said a bit quieter. Tony partially looked up, but didn't meet his boss's eyes. "Know I shoulda told you that a long time ago, but I wasn't lookin' to make you think I was tryin' to replace anyone. It's just how I feel. Hell, I'd been plannin' to ask you to my place for Christmas." Tony met his eyes then, with a bit of a furrowed brow. "Ya never told us you'd had plans. I was waitin' till the last minute, so ya wouldn't feel obligated, if something had come up."

"Boss..."

"Or, God forbid, a case should pop up and trap us all in the office anyway."

"I..."

"Hell, I should've invited ya anyway. You could've brought your dad by. But by the looks of it, you'd had everything planned out to be at your place. Chances are, I would've made you drag it all here. But that would've been selfish of me. It was supposed to be time with your dad. So I guess it's good I didn't say anything." Gibbs looked down at his own coffee, now; feeling a bit foolish for having said anything at all.

"Christ, Gibbs," Tony's proclamation forced him to look up at him again in question. "That was a lot for you to say in one shot, without bein' in interrogation." Gibbs grinned and shook his head. "But yeah, I would've dragged everything over here in a heartbeat." Gibbs' expression turned more serious, and he narrowed his eyes a bit. "Yeah, it was gonna be pretty ground-breaking to have my dad for the holidays. But _you_...have been everything I'd always wished my father had been for me, for so long. It'd only have been fitting to come here and spend it with the both of you." He got a bit of a smile on his face as his eyes drifted somewhere off to the side. "That would've been the best Christmas ever..."

Gibbs watched him as his smile faded and his eyes dropped. He knew what he was thinking; Christmas would never be quite the same, now. Not only would it not be the best Christmas ever, but he would, inevitably, always think of his father's passing whenever he saw a decorated tree or a plate of holiday cookies. This time of year would always be shadowed by the fact that he'd lost someone...

Gibbs took a moment to think of how it would feel if this had happened to himself. If he'd lost Jackson, now that they'd reconciled, it would be a bit devastating, he had to admit. And Jackson was quite a bit older than Tony's father; so it seemed a greater possibility.

When he saw Tony's eyes begin to glisten, Gibbs stood and made his way around the table. The manifested feeling of what it'd be like to lose his own father, made it all the easier to pull the younger agent into another comforting embrace, accepting and absorbing the silent sobs that wracked Tony's body.

This one, however, was much more like a child clinging to his father; Tony's arms wrapped around his middle and grasping onto the back of his shirt as the side of his face plastered against the older man's chest, and Gibbs' hand secured it there. The other rubbed comfortingly up and down between his shoulder blades. He could remember hugging his daughter, Kelly, this way before he had to deploy overseas. It felt natural and right to be doing this for Tony.

He wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright; that it would get better, easier, with time. But none of that would help him or ease his pain right now, and he knew that from experience. So all he could do from this point, was try and make it a little easier _now_. How he would go about doing that, would take a bit of planning...and some help...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Hey! So, this is a bit late, but upon arriving home from vaca, my furnace decided to have quit working a couple of days prior, and my house was below freezing point. After attempting to fix it, we ended up in a hotel again for the night. It finally got fixed yesterday evening, and today I decided to get this chapter rolling. Once my headache eased off, it seemed to fly by rather nicely :). SO, from this point out, I should technically be able to update every day until it's finished! Yay :) **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And I hope you all enjoyed your Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza or whatever you celebrated lol ;)**

**P.S. Hailey: Sorry for all the rainbow-barf. Hahaha ;) **


	12. Father to Father

After apologizing for his embarrassing display of emotion, Tony headed up to the guest room. Even with his forced nap on Ducky's cold table, he felt the exhaustion of the past several days still pulling at him.

Gibbs took the opportunity to make a few calls...

**11 00 11 00 11**

As Jackson Gibbs entered into his house from the snowy-cold evening, the phone was ringing. He hurried inside, closing the door and pulling off his gloves as he picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

_"Hey, Dad," _came the familiar voice on the other line.

"Leroy," Jackson beamed as he shrugged off his coat. "I wasn't expecting a call from you for a couple of days."

_"Yeah, I know. And I'm hopin' it's not to late to ask ya somethin'."_

"What is it?" Jackson furrowed his brow as he sat down in his armchair.

_"Do you have someone who could man the store for the week?"_

"Well, the few days it'll be open this week, sure. Why, son? Has something happened?" he asked, worriedly.

_"I'm fine, Dad. It's Tony; he just lost his father and I-"_

"Oh no," Jackson interrupted. "He was coming to spend Christmas with him... What happened? How did it happen? Was he there?"

_"Dad, how'd you know he was spending the holiday with Tony?"_

"We talk now and then, Leroy. Kid was so damned excited and he wanted to tell someone, but was afraid he'd jinx it if he told anyone at work. Can't believe this happened to him... Was he already in town?" he repeated.

_"He was in New York, checkin' into a hotel before his flight the next morning to get here. Had a heart attack."_

"Poor sonofabitch..."

_"Tony went up there alone. Wouldn't tell any of us about any of it. But he'd been acting strange for days and we finally put two and two together."_

"What's he gonna do? Is he there with you now?" Jackson knew his son, and he knew enough about Tony to know that he cared a great deal for Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

_"Yeah, he's here. I wanted to ask you if you'd come down for a few days; spend Christmas with us. I think he'd like that."_

"Of course," he replied without hesitancy. "I'll have to fly... Truck's in the shop."

_"You put her in the shop?" _his voice portrayed his shock.

"Too damned cold to work on the thing myself, Leroy. I've got my limitations; getting old, ya know," he smirked, though his son couldn't see it. There was a silence on the other line, and Jackson realized then that he might've brought a bit of fear to his fearless son. "Don't worry 'bout me, kiddo; you're not the only one with stubborn Gibbs-blood running through their veins. Tony's old man was a heavy drinker. Well...heavier a drinker than _your_ old man," he snickered. "I'll look into getting a ticket-"

_"Don't worry about doin' all that," _he interjected. _"I'll have McGee find you one, and I'll call and let you know when you need to be at the airport. You can find a ride there, right?"_

"I think I can handle that," he retorted with a snort.

_"Be careful, Dad. I'll call you back soon."_

"I'm always careful, Leroy."

_"I love ya, Dad..."_

Jackson swallowed. He could sense the pain he felt for his friend; one he knew he thought of as a son. "I love you, too, son..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	13. O' Christmas Tree

Gibbs headed up to Tony's apartment after having left Ducky to stay with Tony back at the house. He was surprised to see McGee's car in the parking lot. But at the same time, he was a bit okay with that fact. He needed to ask him a favor.

Once unlocking the door, Gibbs let himself in and saw Tim hard at work trying to sweep up a mess of broken ornaments on the floor, where he'd already picked up and reassembled the tree.

Tim spun around when he heard him enter. "Boss?"

"Didn't expect you to be here, McGee," Gibbs said as he closed the door.

"I just uh...I wanted to...ya know, clean up a bit. For Tony," his eyes skittered sheepishly.

"That's nice of you," Gibbs told him.

"Is he okay?" he asked. "Palmer said he brought him to your place. Said he'd had a pretty bad migraine before that..."

"Migraine's gone," he replied as he approached the messy area around the tree and examined what remained intact. "But he's upset, understandably." McGee nodded, then stooped down to pick up the full dustpan and dump it in the kitchen trash can. "How long have you been here, Tim?" Gibbs asked when he noticed the kitchen was cleaned up fairly spotlessly. He hadn't been there, himself, yet. But he'd been told the condition of the apartment when they spoke to him on the phone earlier.

"Maybe an hour," the younger agent replied. "I wanted to get everything up before he comes back here. Last thing he needs is to come home to this...after everything." He swallowed and turned back to sweeping. "Did you know he was planning to come to town?" Tim asked.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "His father?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah, I know. Tony told me."

"Abby and I found his plane ticket verification online," McGee explained as he swept, not looking up from his work. "No hotel booked here. So, we figured he was meant to stay _here._ And Tony has the guest room made up all nice... I didn't think Tony was very close to his father, but Abby thinks that he really was coming to stay with Tony for Christmas," he stopped and turned to him with a look of question on his face. "Do you think she's right? Did he tell you?"

The look on Tim's face showed something akin to pleading. Chances were that he hoped it hadn't been true. Because he knew that if they'd reconciled, this would be harder for Tony. But Tim already knew; he was becoming a great investigator, like he'd been well taught to be. His final clue being the answering look on his boss's face.

"Tony's gonna be stayin' with me for the next few days, at least," Gibbs told him. "Think you can help me out with somethin', if you're free for a bit this evening?"

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Thanks for comin' to help out, Abs," Gibbs told her as they redecorated the tree with ornaments after they'd gotten it to Gibbs' house. They'd also transported all of the Christmas dinner items Tony had in his fridge, and any wrapped presents that had been out under the tree at Tony's place.

"Like I'd pass up on a chance to do something nice for one of my best friends in the whole world," she replied with a small smile. "Poor Tony...I can't believe he didn't tell anyone."

"I don't think he was ready to deal with it himself, let alone tell _us_ about it," McGee defended.

"But usually he talks, at least to _me_, about stuff that's bothering him," she said as she hung a new ornament she'd brought from her own supply. "He must've really been trying to pretend it didn't even happen..." her voice drifted off.

"The point is, now," Ducky said as he hung another ornament, "We do know, and we will be here for him, should he need to talk."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: wanted to get something up before the New Year ;)**


	14. Regifting

Tony awoke some time in the night. He was beyond thirsty, and decided to head down to get himself a drink.

Once down the steps, he did a double-take at the living room at the unfamiliar glow emanating from the corner. Unfamiliar for Gibbs' house, that is. It was surreal; the mostly darkened home lit up with the soft glow of Christmas lights shining brightly on his artificial tree he'd been certain he'd destroyed.

As he stepped closer, he realized that with his own decorations, there were new ornaments he'd never seen before added on. Tony was so amazed by the sight before him, that he hadn't heard Gibbs come up the steps from the basement.

"Was wonderin' if you'd get up at all tonight," he said softly as he entered the room.

"I was wondering if I _was_ awake," Tony replied, just as softly. "I can't believe you did all this, Boss..."

"Wasn't just me," he said, leaning on the door frame to the kitchen. "McGee and Abby helped." Tony glanced over at him in question. "They wanted to do somethin' for you. Usually, we find the least resistance when you're sleepin'," he gave a small smirk.

"You didn't have to do this," Tony said in barely a whisper as he turned his face back to the tree.

Gibbs was suddenly beside him, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "We wanted to," he assured him.

For a long moment, Tony just stood there in a bit of awe. "Thanks, Boss," he said, finally.

Gibbs gave him a small nod and turned to head to the kitchen. "Want some coffee?"

"It's like...two in the morning," Tony cocked his head, following him to the kitchen as the light was flipped on. "Have you even been to bed?"

"No reason to get to bed just yet," he replied as he poured coffee into two mugs. "Technically, it's Christmas Eve today. We're officially not on call, this year, for the next two days; made sure of it. That goes double for you, DiNozzo. No takin' over anyone's shifts this year. You've got family to spend the holiday with."

Tony looked back toward the tree for a moment, trying to swallow against the lump in his throat. _''I __**did**__...''_ he thought. He turned back toward the kitchen a took the mug handed to him. He set it down on the counter, preparing to add cream and sugar, but realized that it'd already been done for him.

Gibbs had headed out into the living room again, and Tony glanced at the man's retreating back before looking skeptically at his coffee. Carefully, he took a small sip. Astonishingly enough, the coffee was perfectly prepared the way he liked it. That feat was rarely even managed very well by the barista, let alone his boss.

Tony joined Gibbs in the living room on the couch, then. They both let their gazes fall lazily to the tree again. Tony let his eyes fall to the gifts wrapped beneath it. "I dunno what I'm gonna do with the stuff I got my dad," he said. "Wouldn't make much sense to keep them." Gibbs wasn't exactly sure what to suggest. "I should probably take them back..."

"I could do that for you," he offered. "Haven't done any shopping yet, and I need to."

Tony shook his head, "You've already done so much, Boss..."

"It's not a problem, Tony. If I didn't wanna do it, would I even offer?"

Tony looked down at his coffee. "Guess not." He looked back over at the tree. Setting his coffee down on the coffee table, he moved off of the couch and crouched down by the tree, rifling through the packages. "Some of this stuff, I can give to other people," he decided. "The shirts, I'll have to bring back. Not sure I know anyone who wears the same fit." He set aside two boxes that looked to be shirt-sized. "This," he picked up a smaller box, "I can give to McGoo. Gloves and a scarf; he's use those. And they're real nice, too. He should have something nice... Did you know he lost most of his book money?" he glanced briefly at Gibbs before diving back under the tree. Gibbs didn't reply. Tony hadn't really been expecting an answer, and he knew that. He just wanted to talk, and Gibbs was okay with that. "I was gonna wait until after the holidays to shop for the team...I know everyone had plans, and I was so caught up in my dad coming..." he paused for a moment to collect himself. "Well, I flat-out didn't even think about it until I got home from shopping. So I came to that conclusion."

"I didn't have plans," Gibbs told him.

"But if you had, you wouldn't have said anything," he gave him a slight smirk. "I assumed you could, possibly, have planned a trip up to Stillwater. McGee is going to see Sarah and his parents. I think even Ziva has plans...or so she said. Something about the beach..."

"Somethin' about California, if I remember correctly," Gibbs verified.

"Well, that's good. I don't even know what to get her. I was thinkin' I might get her a new chain for that Star of David necklace she always wears. It's so thin, I keep thinkin' it's gonna break and she'll lose it."

"That's a good idea," Gibbs assured him.

"There's a bottle of wine at the house I can give to Ducky," he continued. "I'm sure he'd like it; it's the good stuff. Got it for my dad, really. It's best not to let it go to waste."

"It's here, if you wanna do that," he told him. Tony looked over at him in question. "Brought all the stuff over from your fridge, too. Figured we could make it, instead of it going to waste at your place."

Tony quirked a brow, "You're gonna cook, Boss?"

"You're gonna help," he raised a brow in response, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth.

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Meant to have this up and out yesterday, but things got a little busy. More to come tomorrow :)**


	15. To My Father, With Love

Tony picked up another package from under the tree and looked at it thoughtfully. "This one, I can't take back..." he said. "Got it engraved and all," he pulled the wrapping off of it and balled it up neatly before setting it on the floor.

The cigar box was cherry wood with a gold plate on the top, engraved with something Gibbs couldn't quite see from where he was sitting.

"Carlos Toraño Exodus 1959 Torpedo's," Tony explained as he opened the humidor box. "Best legal cigars you can get, in dad's opinion anyway." He closed the box and ran his fingers along the plate for a few moments before standing and making his way back to the couch. He sat down beside Gibbs, still looking at the box.

That's when it dawned on him, and he swallowed a lump in his throat as he looked over at his boss. Gibbs was unable to read the look on his senior field agent's face, and so he narrowed his eyes. "You okay?"

Tony nodded. "Just...you're the only other person I would ever give this to," he told him. He handed the box over and Gibbs set his cup of coffee down before taking it from him.

"You sure?" he asked as he set it in his lap and looked down at the engraving as the lights from the tree hit it. It said, 'To my father, with love. -Tony'.

"I'm not sure you're a big fan of cigars, but that's not really the point, anyway."

Gibbs was speechless. Though this gift hadn't originally been meant for him, the fact that Tony wanted him to have it, really touched his heart somewhere deep down that hadn't been reached in a very long time. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat and looked over at his agent. Tony was a bit shocked to see a bit of wetness in the older man's eyes as it caught the light from the tree. "Thank you," he told him. And before he knew what was happening, Gibbs had him in an embrace. He couldn't help but to return the hug of this man who'd been more of a father to him these past nearly a decade. The man who he'd always wished his real father could've been like; who he'd hoped to finally get, and had come close to having...

And suddenly he was holding on to that hug in more of an effort to hide the rapidly impending threatening tears. He fought to stop them before they could begin. Gibbs could tell, though he made no effort to expose that fact. He simply held him tighter and allowed him that moment. Tony was grateful. And he even managed to get himself under control before pulling away.

"What say we go downstairs, have a drink, and light a few of these babies up?" Gibbs suggested with a raised brow.

"I say, that sounds like a great idea, Boss," Tony replied with a bit of a grin. "Breakfast of champions."

They both rose from the couch as Gibbs let out a small laugh. "To _you_, it's breakfast. To _me_, it's just a mid-night snack," he smirked.

"Personally," Tony retorted as they headed down the stairs, "I like some eggs and bacon with my morning bourbon. It's good for the soul," he grinned.

"Lucky for you, I've got both up in the fridge," he replied as he set the box down on his workbench.

Tony cocked his head in a bit of surprise. "I didn't know you kept anything that couldn't be frozen, Boss?"

"I don't, normally," he told him as he poured a shot of the amber liquid into two mason jars. "Came from your house," he let out a small laugh and opened the cigar box, handing Tony one of the Torpedo's before taking one for himself. Tony shook his head and laughed silently. Gibbs fished around in a dish on the top shelf over his workbench until he returned with guillotine. Tony raised his brows, impressed that the man owned one, and quite pleased that it meant he'd get more use out of the cigars than he'd figured.

Gibbs sliced a thin piece of the cap from the head of the cigar and handed the device to Tony, who did the same, then flipped open and lit his Marine Zippo for Tony to light his first, before bringing the flame to his own. He took a small puff and let it sit in his mouth a bit before releasing the smoke. "Not bad," he conceded.

Tony coughed a bit from his own initial puff and had to laugh at himself. "Yeah...not bad at all," he coughed again.

Gibbs shook his head; a bit amused. Setting the lighter down on the workbench, he handed Tony one of the jars of bourbon before picking up his own. Before sipping from it, he held it in front of him. "To family," he toasted.

Tony's eyes flashed at his words as they sank in. He felt a warmth about him that generally came _after_ the bourbon. Then he smiled, "To family," he agreed, and they tapped their jars together...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: I'm all about this 'not-really-family, being real family' thing. Especially right now! **

**But anyway, more to come tomorrow. And I'm really feeling the need to throw something crazy in here, amongst all the sap... what say you?**


	16. What Just Happened?

"Thanks for coming by to help, Abs," Tony said as they worked together to make cookies.

"As if I'd miss out on some Christmas Eve with one of my besties," she grinned and playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Please don't ever use that term again..."

"I know, right?" she grimaced. "I told myself I'd try it out once...I'm not diggin' it either."

"Besides, you're not one of my best friends," Tony stated, matter-of-factly, as he continued to roll out the dough.

Abby looked at him with a flash of hurt, "What?"

"You're more than that, Abby," he glanced at her for a moment before looking back down at his administrations. "You're my sister...my family," he elaborated.

"Aww, Tonyyyyy!" she gave him a sideways hug.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" he laughed as her hug about caused him to topple, sending flour all over the floor beneath them. "Gibbs is gonna kick my ass if I destroy his kitchen, Abs!"

"I think you've got a 'get out of ass-kicking free' card for at least the rest of the year," she said before placing an apologetic kiss on his cheek. "Besides, I'll help clean it up!"

"You'll clean it _all_ up," he retorted, playfully. "You made the mess!"

"You're the one that squirmed, DiNozzo!"

"I wouldn't have squirmed if you hadn't hug-attacked me!"

"I wouldn't have hug-attacked you if you hadn't been so darn sweet!"

"I didn't say it to be sweet, Abby," he cocked his head. "I said it 'cause I meant it." Her accusatory face softened into a smile. Then, without warning, he raised a hand up and smeared frosting on her cheek.

"DiNozzo!" she shrieked, and Tony couldn't help but to laugh at her shocked face before running out of the room to avoid any kind of retaliation. To his surprise, however, she went into the bathroom to wash the frosting off of her face. "Don't think you're off the hook, mister!" she shouted.

Tony laughed, then jumped a bit when his cell went off in his pocket. He quickly headed back into the kitchen to wipe his hands on a towel, then fetched it out. "Hey, Boss!" he answered. "Havin' fun yet?"

The team leader had decidedly gone Christmas shopping at the last minute; something he hadn't done in many years. Tony tried to remind him how busy it'd be, but Gibbs was too stubborn to back down from his goal.

_"Took me forty-five minutes just to get into the mall,"_ Gibbs told him. _"And once I finished getting what all I needed, it took an hour to get through the line at check-out." _

"I warned you," Tony let out a soft chuckle.

_"Yeah, well...had to be done," _he said in his defense. _"I'm figurin' it'll take at least half an hour to get out of this chaos."_

"You on the road, then?"

_"Still tryin' to get outta the damned parking lot," _he tried not to sound too annoyed.

"Ah man...I'm sorry, Boss..." his apology was less than sincere, since it was accompanied by a humored tone.

_"Figured I'd pass the time a little by callin' to see how much of a disaster you two have made of my kitchen."_

"Disaster?" Tony turned around as Abby came into the kitchen, and he gave her a glare. "What makes ya think there's anything wrong with the kitchen, Boss?" he motioned to Abby to start picking up. "It's in pristine condition!"

_"Uh huh," _Gibbs replied, knowingly. _"Somehow, you and Abby and baking seems like a formula for the inevitable, DiNozzo."_

"I have no idea what you're referring to...whatsoever," Tony cleared his throat. "So whatcha get at the mall?" he changed the subject. "Anything good?"

_"Not gonna tell you."_

"Aw, c'mon! You can tell me what ya got Abby! Promise I won't tell her!"

_"She'd get it out of you in less than two minutes."_

"That much faith in me, huh? Two-minute threshold for- well...you're probably right..." Gibbs' laughter on the other line was cut short by a sickening sound of screeching tires and crunching, scraping metal. Tony was suddenly dumb-struck for a moment, absorbing the sound. "Boss, what was that?" he asked. There was no reply. "Boss?" his chest constricted and his body was suddenly burning with fear. "Gibbs!"

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Updating this tonight because I've gotta work tomorrow and don't know if I'll have time to do it then... But technically this should count as tomorrow's post. ;)**


	17. Get to Gibbs

**A/N: Gonna have to up the rating a little, due to the language in this chapter lol.**

**11 00 11 00 11**

Abby stood there, worried and confused as to what happened as Tony continued to call for Gibbs on the phone. "Tony?" she touched his arm.

He swung around to face her, panic clearly written on his face. "I need your keys. I need to go..."

"What happened?" she dove for her purse in the living room.

"I dunno...I...he might've gotten into a wreck..." his voice cracked as he took the ridiculously chunky set of key-chain-mess from her.

"I'm going with you," she told him, just as worried, but trying not to freak out, since Tony seemed to be doing it for the both of them.

He didn't reply to her as he tore out of the house toward her car, with her on his heels. They were on the road within seconds; Tony calling an ambulance to a possible accident scene at the mall he knew Gibbs had gone to. Once he ended the call and retried Gibbs' number, to no avail, he stepped down harder on the gas.

"He wasn't going fast," Tony said, but to no one in particular, besides himself. "He was stuck in the traffic. Couldn't be that bad, right? It's the mall... It's just...someone backed into him and he dropped his phone. Yeah...that's gotta be it," he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more.

"And he's out there probably giving the other driver the death-glare," Abby added.

Tony nodded, willingly accepting the explanation. But remained silent the remainder of their journey...

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Shit!" Tony yelled as they pulled into the long line of traffic at the entrance road to the mall. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" He hit the dashboard with a heavy, angry fist.

Normally, Abby would've protested the language...and possible destruction of her beloved vehicle. But she completely understood and felt his frustration.

"Fuck this; I'm going by foot," he said as he threw the car into park.

"Now wait a minute!" Abby yelled, causing him to pause and look at her. "I'm not waiting here while you run off, Tony. So pull the car over, put on the hazard lights, and lock her up, and I'll come with you."

Tony narrowed his eyes and looked down at her combat boots. "I really hope you can run in those things, Abs..." he met her eyes again.

And run, she could. They weren't her usual platforms. Though not the most comfortable running shoes, she was at least able to keep Tony within her sights as he tore off, obviously much faster than her.

Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd ran so fast for what seemed so long. Weaving between the stopped cars as they honked, he pressed the speed-dial to try Gibbs again, and held the phone to his ear with high hopes.

Flashing lights pulled his gaze into the parking lot a few yards away. Somewhere beyond the ambulance and tow-truck was hiding his destination. Tony quickly changed his route to head in that direction.

As he neared, the ambulance took to start driving away. He jumped in front of it, waving his hands and yelling for them to stop, before pulling out his ID and pressing it against the driver's window. The driver stopped and rolled down the glass. "Sir? The NCIS guy was taken in another bus," he told him.

"How bad?" Tony asked, out of breath.

The driver shrugged, "No idea, sir. We didn't get here until after they left. Emergency road is a bit narrow, and the second victim isn't badly injured, so we were more cautious getting in."

"What happened? Do you know?"

"Driver of the truck had a seizure for unknown reasons; foot slipped from the break and slammed down on the gas. He hit the passenger side of your man's vehicle. That's all I know, sir." The driver's gaze drifted somewhere behind him as Abby approached, quickly as her shoes would allow her.

Tony's eyes flitted around as he tried to figure out what to do next. "You said your patient isn't badly injured... Could you wait here for a minute? Give us a lift to the hospital?"

"We left our car parked in the lot right at the road entrance," Abby elaborated. "Even if we get back there, it'll take hours to get back out."

Her puppy-dog eyes convinced the driver. "Sure thing, ma'am."

"Thank you," she gave him a small smile, then watched as Tony made his way around the vehicle just as the tow truck was hauling Gibbs' car onto its bed.

His hands went immediately to the top of his head, grabbing onto fistfuls of hair at the sight of the destruction. The oversized pickup that had hit him, seemed fine, other than a messed-up grill. But Gibbs' Challenger had been crunched like a Styrofoam cup, which seemed impossible.

Tony's gut twisted as he watched the car hoisted onto the tow. His breath lost running was not returning to him, and he felt tears begin to sting his eyes. The gasp he heard beside him, told him that Abby was thinking the same thing he was... They had to get to Gibbs...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	18. No Help At All

Aside from constant jabber over the EMS radio, the cab was silent. Abby sat in between the driver and Tony, but plastered herself as much as she could to Tony's side of the vehicle. The driver was going faster than he needed to, for their sake.

Tony was grateful for that much. But his stomach hurt and his head ached from nerves. His knee bounced up and down rapidly and his hands were clenched in his lap; one clutching to his phone. A million thoughts ran through his head and none of them made any sense to him. All he knew was that he needed to know...

"Shit..." he cursed under his breath, causing Abby to look over at him.

"What is it?"

"I should've called Ducky by now... I need to call him; let him know to meet us."

"I'll call him," she offered, and rooted through her purse to find her phone.

And that's when Tony's phone rang, unexpectedly. Without waiting for the ID, he picked up. "Gibbs?"

_"Uh, no, actually," _McGee's voice sounded on the other line. _"I was trying to get ahold of him, though. I tried his phone a dozen times. I'm guessing you don't know where he is, then?"_

"Yeah, I do," he replied. "He's at Bethesda," his voice cracked.

_"What?" _his voice conveyed his surprise and worry. _"What happened?"_

"His car was t-boned by a truck," he explained.

_"Oh my god...is he okay?"_

"I have no godamn clue, Probie... No one knows anything, and we're on our way there, now."

_"I'll meet you there, then."_

"Wait...aren't you out of town?" he asked.

_"No...I had a change of plans," _he replied, vaguely.

"Involving Gibbs, I take it?"

_"Sort of..." _There was an uncomfortable length of silence on both ends, until McGee spoke again. _"Tony?"_

"Yeah?" his reply was so low, Tim had almost missed it.

_"Are you okay?"_

Tony contemplated the question for a few moments. No. He was definitely far from okay, right now. It was quite possible that he'd never quite be 'okay' again...

"I'll have to get back to you, on that," he replied before ending the call and looking back out at the road before them...

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs!" he raised his voice, annoyed with the receptionist who seemed to not have a single braincell in her pretty little blond head. "He's with NCIS and was brought here via ambulance within the past half hour from an accident downtown."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't have any information about his current condition," she defended. "But if you can just take a seat, I'll try to page the doctor listed on his intake."

"Why wouldn't you have that information?" he asked, incredulously.

"There could be several reasons," she stated. "He could've been taken to emergency surgery, or ended up critical in which they wouldn't have had time, yet, to report it... Or...there's just not been enough time..."

Tony pushed away from the desk and stormed back to the waiting area which, thankfully, only contained Abby and himself.

"Tony?" Abby inquired. "Anything?"

"Nothing!" he yelled. "They know _nothing_ about _anything_!" he fisted his hands in his hair again, fighting off fear-filled tears. The fury and confusion and agonizing feeling of uncertainty was pushing him over the edge. He couldn't lose Gibbs...not now. The mere thought of it was more devastating than he could handle. He pictured him bloody and battered on an operating table, fighting for life, and the image sent him over that edge.

Abby approached him and led him to sit beside her, though it seemed he wasn't even aware of it. The pain in his eyes was too much for her. She placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Everything's gonna be okay, Tony," she told him, in as convincing a tone as she could.

As much as he wanted to believe her, there was no way she could know any more than he did, at this point. And no...nothing would be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again if he lost Gibbs, too...

Fear won over and Tony crumbled, throwing his arms over his face to try and hide the fact. Abby immediately pulled him against her chest and held him tightly, finally allowing some of her own worried tears to fall...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	19. Breathe Again

"People here for Mr. Gibbs?" a doctor's voice caused Tony and Abby to shoot up from their chairs.

"That's us," Tony supplied.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he told them. "Sometimes our non-critical patients have a bit of a wait before being entered into the system."

"Non-critical?" Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "What's his condition?"

"He was brought in unconscious," the doctor explained. "A few scrapes along the hairline. We took a ton of x-rays which came back with no abnormalities, and have him set up for a CT, but since he's been awake, we don't think there's anything more than a concussion."

"That's it?" Abby's brows rose high. "His car was crushed like a tin can..."

"He was extremely lucky," the doctor said. "Had there been another car or other obstruction on his side of the car, he would've been killed. But the passenger side took most of the impact. In fact, the only reason he was hurt at all was the way he'd been jarred. His head most likely hit the window beside him. And I'm sure he'll be sore as hell tomorrow, but other than that, he seems to be fine."

"Can I see him?" Tony asked. "Can _we_ see him," he clarified.

"He's been hollering for us to contact someone named DiNozzo..."

"That's me," Tony pulled out his ID and showed it to him.

The doctor nodded, "I'll take you to him. But ma'am, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to wait until we run your name by him."

"It's Abby Sciuto," she glared. "Not ma'am..."

"She's with me," Tony told him.

"It's okay, Tony," her voice softened. "You need to see him."

He took a breath, thankful for her understanding, and leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Abs."

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Just bring me a damn phone!" Gibbs' voice could be heard all the way down the hall, and it washed so much of the fear and anxiety that Tony had been holding onto since their call had been violently cut short, that it took everything in him not to run up that hall to his room. "There's no reason for me to stay here, and if you don't bring me a phone, it'll be _you _who'll be occupying this room!"

Tony let out a breathy laugh as he rounded the doorway and entered the room to see a moderately frightened male nurse and a slightly roughed-up looking Gibbs standing near the bed. "I've got a phone you can use, Boss," Tony said, nonchalantly. Gibbs looked over and met his senior field agent's eyes in a bit a relieved surprise.

The nurse took the opportunity to escape the room, leaving the two of them alone.

"Needed the phone to call _you_," Gibbs told him.

"I've been here," he replied, taking a tentative step forward. "Abby and I. They wouldn't tell us anything. We went to where it happened...saw the car," his voice became shaky, and Gibbs hadn't missed the fact that his hair was a bit disheveled and his eyes were reddened before he'd even begun speaking. "I didn't know what to think," his eyes darted around. "The way your Challenger was crushed, I thought, for sure, you were in bad shape. The lady at the front desk said that if the information wasn't in the system, you could be in emergency surgery or that you were critical to the point that no one could get away to make a report..."

"She's an idiot, Tony," Gibbs told him, taking the few steps to stand in front of him. "I'm fine; just a knock to the head is all. I don't even remember what happened. Just that I was on the phone with you and suddenly I woke up here."

"I'm s- so glad you're okay, Boss," he said in barely a whisper as he met his eyes. Gibbs could see they were brimmed with tears, and he couldn't imagine what kind of things must have been going through his head. "I dunno what I would've done if..." he couldn't finish the sentence.

But Gibbs knew what he was trying to convey. "Hey...c'mere," he pulled the younger man to him and felt his body shaking. "It's okay. I'm okay, Tony. Not goin' anywhere for a damn long time, if I've got any say about it."

Tony let out a half-laugh, half-sob, "Shoulda known better than to think a crushed two-ton vehicle could take you out, Boss." He was silent for a long moment listening to his boss breathing; feeling the rise and fall of his chest; reassurance that he was, indeed, alive and well.

Suddenly his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled away from Gibbs to fish it out and look at the ID. "Oh...almost forgot about McGee," he said as he answered. "Hey, Probie. I'm with Gibbs."

_"How is he? I haven't gotten through this traffic yet. I'm kinda wishing I'd invested in a siren..."_

"Here," he replied as Gibbs motioned for him to hand the phone over, "Talk to _him_."

"McGee?" Gibbs said as he put the phone to his ear.

_"Boss! Are you okay?"_

"Fine, Tim. Where ya headed?"

_"I was on my way there with your dad. I picked him up from the airport right before Tony told me what happened..."_

"Alright, well just drop him home and come pick us up here, will ya?"

_"You're being discharged already?" _The short amount of silence that followed the question, answered it for him. _"Right, Boss. I'll be there soon..."_

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	20. Cookies on Christmas Eve

"Clear liquid diet for 24 hours?" Tony exclaimed from the back seat as he read over the home care for concussions. "It's freaking Christmas Eve! There's good food to be eaten!"

"Not all concussions are the same, DiNozzo," Gibbs said from the front passenger seat. "Never had a problem eating after a concussion before."

"Of course, you realize coffee isn't food, right, Gibbs?" Abby verified from beside Tony.

"No alcohol!" Tony hit the paper with his fingers. "You just _had_ to go shopping, didn't you..."

"I can do without the booze for a day," Gibbs admitted. "Maybe not over-indulge on dinner tonight."

"We'll do it tomorrow," Tony said. "There's no rule sayin' we've gotta do a big dinner on Christmas _Eve_. Besides, I didn't get a chance to finish makin' the cookies. Cookies are an essential part of Christmas Eve. I'm gonna need to oven for _that_ this evening."

"Cookies are essential for Christmas Eve?" McGee asked.

"Of course they are, Probie," Tony scoffed. "When have you _not_ had cookies on Christmas Eve night?"

"Specifically, that I can recall? When I went home for Christmas break during my freshman year in college. Sarah gave me the stomach flu and I was sick up until the day before I had to go back."

"Aww," Abby petted Tim's head, and he just rolled his eyes.

"Speakin' of going home for Christmas break," Tony said. "What happened that made you change your plans this weekend?"

McGee hesitated to answer, but was saved, suddenly, by Abby's outburst, "Oh my god! Ducky!"

"What?" Tony turned to her, and then came to sudden revelation. "OH my god... I'll call him," he pulled out his cell.

"What?" Tim asked with concern. "What's wrong with Ducky?"

"Nothing!" Abby supplied. "But I called him to come to the hospital and I'm guessing he got caught in traffic. He could be at Bethesda right now, having a nervous breakdown!"

"Ducky!" Tony spoke into his phone.

_"I've just now pulled in to Bethesda, Anthony. I'm sorry; there was an accident and it backed up the entire bloody road here. I say, what I wouldn't give, sometimes, for one of those devices on the Inspector Gadget mobile-"_

"Ducky, Gibbs is fine. I should've called sooner, I know... But we're on our way back to his place, now."

_"Discharged already? Dare I ask if he signed himself out AMA?"_

"No, actually. He lived up to his superhero status and walked away with a scrape to the head...and a mild concussion."

_"Well...that's a relief," _Ducky let out a long breath. _"From what Abigail told me, the car was crushed in and you both feared the worst."_

"Yeah, we did for a while," Tony said in a lower voice. "Sorry I didn't call you sooner, Ducky. I know it had to be a bitch getting through that traffic."

_"I'd have been stuck, either way, my boy. I'll come by Jethro's house in a bit. Anything he needs, specifically?"_

"Think we're all set, but yeah; come by. I'm sure he'd like that."

**11 00 11 00 11**

Gibbs and Tony waved Abby and McGee goodbye as they drove off to pick up Abby's abandoned car. Tony turned toward the house, glancing at Gibbs as he did the same. And he was glad he had, because in that moment, Gibbs began to waver a bit in his stance.

"Whoa there, Boss!" Tony was plastered against his side to support him in a heart beat, throwing Gibbs arm around his shoulder. "Steady as she goes," he smirked.

"Must be the pain meds," Gibbs said as they began their walk toward the front door.

"Must be the gigantic Dodge Ram that lived up to its name by making lunch meat outta your car."

Gibbs frowned. "How bad?" he asked.

Tony swallowed at the question. Gibbs loved that car... It could quite possible break the man's heart if he saw it that way. "Don't worry about that, right now."

"That bad, huh?" Gibbs opened the door and stepped inside as Tony made sure he wasn't going to fall over from lack of his support.

"I'm sure it can be fixed," Tony told him.

"Leroy? That you?" Jackson's voice sounded from the kitchen.

"Yeah, Dad," he replied. Tony glanced, confused, at Gibbs, before Jackson came out into the living room where they now stood.

He pulled his son into an embrace, "Glad you're alright. Tim wouldn't tell me much of what happened, for my own sake, I'm sure. But he said we were headed to the hospital to see you and I didn't know what to think." He pulled away and Gibbs squeezed the man's shoulder.

"I'm alright," he told him. "Car's not doin' so well, though," he looked apologetically.

"Car's a car. Can't replace my boy," he gave him a soft smile and a pat on the arm, then looked to Tony, who still seemed a bit shocked to see him. "Good to see ya, Tony!" it was the senior field agent's turn for a hug. "I'm sorry to hear about your old man, kiddo."

"Thanks, Jack," he replied as the older man pulled away. "I had no idea you were gonna be here..."

"It's Christmas," he replied.

"Yeah, but I was under the impression there were no plans, here," he raised a brow at his boss.

"At the time, there wasn't," Gibbs replied simply.

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	21. Almost Christmas

For a moment, Tony thought maybe Gibbs had rearranged his plans so they could have a Gibbs-family Christmas; that he would have to go back to his place and once again be alone. But he realized, as he stood there in their presence, that they'd actually gotten together this year because of _him_. Maybe even _for_ him.

"Hope ya don't mind that I started your cookies going," Jackson told Tony. "Once I knew Leroy was okay, I needed something to pass the time. Looks like you left here in quite a hurry..."

"Oh yeah," Tony grimaced. "Sorry 'bout the mess," he glanced back and forth between the two Gibbs'.

"What mess?" Jackson asked, convincingly before they turned to go into the kitchen. Tony was pleasantly surprised to see that he'd actually cleaned up what chaos he and Abby had created earlier. Jackson winked at him and Tony gave him an appreciative smile.

**11 00 11 00 11**

Gibbs groaned as he entered back into consciousness, after having unknowingly fallen asleep on the couch. Every part of him ached worse then he could ever remember aching before. It was like he'd been hit by a...oh yeah...

"You okay, Boss?" Tony's voice caused him to crack open his eyes and look over in the direction it came from. Gibbs tried to put on a brave face and sit up, but immediately regretted the action as the soreness only intensified, and he couldn't stifle the pained groan. Tony was at his side in a heartbeat. "Guess tryin' to brave through without the painkillers Ducky picked up for you, wasn't the best idea you ever had," he said as he assisted him to sit up, then lean back against the cushion.

Gibbs only grunted in response as Tony sat on the coffee table and reached behind him to fetch the pills and bottle of water before handing the recommended dose to his boss. Gibbs took them without a fight and tried to relax back into the couch. "Time is it?" he asked.

"Almost midnight," Tony replied. "Your dad's in bed. Ducky went home about an hour ago."

"What're you still doin' up, then?"

"I was finishing up the cookies," he defended himself. "Gotta leave some out for jolly ol' Saint Nick, ya know." Gibbs let out a small laugh at that. "That and I knew you'd be getting up, and I wanted to help you upstairs if you needed it."

Gibbs' brows rose for a moment before giving him an appreciative smile. His gaze then wandered to the tree, and his thoughts were pulled elsewhere. "Damn..."

"What is it?"

"I don't have anything to give you," he replied, sadly. "Christmas is minutes away, and everything I got is in that damn car...probably destroyed."

Tony narrowed his eyes, "The only thing that made my Christmas, that came outta that car virtually undamaged, is you, Boss." Gibbs shook his head, dismissively. "I'm serious," Tony defended. "There's nothing you could've given me that would've been remotely as awesome as you continuing to brandish the 'indestructible' label today... Like I said in the hospital, I dunno what I would've done...And I mean that." Gibbs blinked; his eyes darting a bit before meeting Tony's again. "You're all I've got left," he said in a lower voice. "You're my family, Gibbs. That's what Christmas is supposed to be about, right? Family...?"

Gibbs nodded, glad for the semi-darkness in the room as he could feel his eyes sting. To change the subject before it became too much for him, he said, "Still Christmas Eve...and I haven't gotten any of those cookies."

A big smile crossed Tony's face and he jumped up and out to the kitchen. "Wait'll you try 'em, Boss!" he said in an excited, but quite voice. "They're my grandmother's recipe. I'll bring you some milk, too. Wouldn't be right without the milk." Gibbs had to smile at his excitement...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	22. Bah Humbug

Tony awoke to the unmistakable smell of bacon and eggs and...was that pancakes? As he cracked open his eyes and allowed the dim sunlight coming from the window to hit his view, he realized that it was morning. He smiled.

Pushing up out of bed, he shucked on a robe over the teeshirt and sweatpants he'd thrown on the previous night, and headed up the hall from the guest room toward Gibbs', to see if it was _him_ who had gotten up to cook. But the lead agent was just sitting up, swallowing down another painkiller.

"Morning, Boss," Tony greeted with a smile. "I guess Jack is downstairs cooking. The smell woke me up. Merry Christmas!"

"Bah, humbug," Gibbs groaned, lightheartedly.

"Feelin' bad again, this morning?" Tony grimaced and headed further into the room.

"Like I got hit by a truck," he replied, sounding almost whiny, which was a rarity for the man.

"Can I get you anything? I can bring up some breakfast..."

"Coffee," he replied, shortly, and rolled back over in his bed, pulling the covers up over his shoulders.

"Sure thing," Tony hurried out of the room.

Gibbs grinned and pulled the covers off again, pushing up off of the bed to throw on his robe. He didn't feel nearly as bad as he'd let the agent believe. But he wanted him to head downstairs for the surprise he knew was waiting for him, without becoming suspicious.

Gibbs made his way out of the room and up the hall to the stairs and began to descend them just in time to hear Tony's reaction...

*~.~*

Tony headed straight to the kitchen without even glancing at anything else. What surprised him, however, was the fact that there were more people in the kitchen than he'd assumed...

"Abs? McGee? What are you doing here?" he asked, a bit shocked. "I thought you'd had plans..."

"We did," Abby told him.

"To spend Christmas with family," Tim added as he stood from the table. Tony was surprised to be the recipient of a hug from McGee. Surprised, but also overwhelmed with a feeling of...something he couldn't exactly put his finger on. But it was something akin to belonging... "Merry Christmas, Tony," Tim told him before pulling away.

Abby was the next to give him a hug. This one was a bit more painful, but no less warming. "Merry Christmas," she told him softly.

"Yeah, Merry Christmas, kiddo!" Jackson called from the stove.

"Guys..." Tony shook his head in amazement, and wanted to tell them all how much he appreciated them. But Ducky entered the room, no doubt having come from the restroom.

"Ah, Anthony!" he smiled. "Happy Christmas morning, my boy!" he came up next to him and gripped his shoulder before patting it.

"Ducky! You never told me you were comin' back!" Tony exclaimed.

"Was kinda the point," he turned at the sound of Gibbs' voice behind him; he was leaning in the kitchen doorway with a satisfied smirk on his face. "What's Christmas without a few surprises, eh?"

"You did all this, Boss?" he asked, incredulously.

"Knew Abs and Ducky were comin'," he admitted. "McGee, though...thought you were headed to Sarah's after helpin' out here?" he said to Tim.

"I'm gonna go for New Year's," he told him with a small smile. "I just...really wanted to be here, this time."

Gibbs grinned at him and gave him a small nod of approval.

"Ah, Jethro," Ducky spoke up, "I have something here in the guest room I need you to take a look at; preferably before breakfast..."

"Sure, Duck," he said, narrowing his eyes in a bit of curiosity. Then he turned to Tony, "Go ahead and dig in. I'll be back in a minute."

Tony grinned brightly and went to sit at the table with his friends and Jack set a plate in front of him.

As Gibbs and Ducky headed out of the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. Gibbs glanced at Ducky, "Lemme get that, and I'll meet you in there." Ducky nodded in acknowledgment, and Gibbs headed to the door. He opened it, and was almost floored by who was on the other side...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	23. Who Needs Sun on Christmas?

"Ziver?" Gibbs questioned her presence. "I thought you were in California?"

She smiled up at him. "There was a change of plans. Besides, this Christmas thing...I thought I might enjoy spending it with my family, this year."

Without hesitation, Gibbs pulled her into a hug. "I'm honored to have you," he pulled away and kissed her forehead. He realized then, that she was surrounded by packages and bags. "Let me help you get all this inside," he offered.

"Thank you," she replied as they grabbed all of the bags and put them in the living room.

"Ziva?" Tony stood from the table, swallowing what mouthful of food he'd had in his mouth as he walked into the living room to greet her. "What're you doing here? You were supposed to be soakin' in the rays..."

"The party was canceled," she fibbed. "And I thought there was no better place to be today, than here."

Tony took one look at everything she'd brought. With his investigative skills, it was no contest to figure out that she'd prepared for this; that it wasn't a last minute choice.

He met her eyes again as she looked at him with a depth he could only describe as genuine caring. He pulled her into her second hug of the morning. "Thank you. Now my whole family is right here..."

She noticed the others in the kitchen looking on in amazement of her arrival. She'd made sure that no one knew what her plans had been; not wanting anyone else to feel obligated to do the same. Her eyes nearly stung with tears at how proud she felt of all of them. But she quickly stifled them and pulled away. "Merry Christmas, Tony," she smiled.

He returned the smile, "Come eat with us. Jackson made a huge breakfast and apparently he thinks we can eat enough for twenty."

"Perhaps he knows you better than you think," she smirked.

**11 00 11 00 11**

Gibbs entered the guest room where Ducky was waiting. "Close the door, if you will, Jethro," he requested. Gibbs narrowed his eyes and complied. "I went to the impound yesterday evening," he told him. "I retrieved some items from the trunk," he told him as he pulled several shopping bags from behind the bed. "I didn't look inside, so I'm not aware of their state. But the trunk didn't seem too badly damaged..."

"Duck...ya didn't have to do that," he said as he approached them and took the bags, before sitting down on the side of the bed. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," Ducky said, patting his shoulder. "It was Abigail's idea, though. She was home, wrapping gifts as she had the epiphany that you'd been Christmas shopping before you'd been in the unfortunate accident. She phoned me, in hopes that I had a spare key."

"And she was right," he smirked.

"That, she was," he smiled in return. "I'll leave you to that, and join the rest of your guests for breakfast." Gibbs nodded as the older man left the room, closing the door again as he exited.

Gibbs took a breath and opened the first bag. It had taken him a long time to find something for Tony. But that paid off, now, because he'd seen things here and there for everyone that was in his home today.

In this bag, however, he didn't see Tony's gift. There was a small box he knew was for Abby. He opened it to make sure the skeleton-cat necklace was unharmed. He'd found it in one of those stores with goth clothes; in the display window. And he'd stopped on the way out of the mall to get a better chain for it. While he was there, he'd picked up a chain for Ziva as well, per Tony's gift idea for her.

And now he recalled how, while sitting in the car, he'd realized that he might've just stolen his idea. In fact, that's why he was calling him in the first place; just never got around to saying so.

The jewelry shop had been right next door to a sunglasses kiosk. He would've passed it by, but something interesting had caught his eye. A wooden Yorkie pup that held your glasses when they weren't in use. He couldn't help himself; it was perfect for Ducky.

Gibbs set the first bag aside and reached for the next one. This one wasn't nearly as important, but was filled with small things, designed specifically to give out at Christmas. A couple of the coffee mugs were shattered. But the ridiculous packages of candy and chocolate wrapped in green and red and gold, seemed fine. And there were plenty for everyone to get something.

He picked up the last bag. What he saw when he opened it, made his heart sink...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	24. Restocking the Bar

"Please please please open mine, first!" Abby excitedly bounced as she knelt at the foot of the tree, handing a brightly wrapped gift up to Tony.

"Abby, you didn't have to get me anything," he told her as he accepted the gift. "I haven't even gotten you anything yet..."

"You get me stuff all the time, Tony," she smiled. "Besides, that's not what Christmas is about."

"Yet here you are, giving me a present," he smirked and raised a challenging brow.

"Well, if you'd rather not have it," she fake-pouted and grabbed for the gift.

"I didn't say that!" he twisted away from her grabbing hands and tore open the wrapping. "Oh...my god, Abs! The Godfather...The Coppola Restoration complete set! You shouldn't have spent this much on me."

"It wasn't that much," she retorted. "And it doesn't matter. I saw it and I couldn't resist. It had your name written all over it."

Tony smiled and her and crouch down to give her a hug, "Thank you, Abby. It's great."

"You're welcome," she smiled, satisfied and happy. "Okay, Ziva! Here's yours!"

"And here is yours," Ziva said as she handed Abby the gift she'd gotten her. "And for you, Tony," she handed him a square cube of a box. "And McGee," she smiled as she handed him a gift as well and dug into her bag to find the the remaining gifts.

"Duckman," Abby handed a gift to the M.E.

"Oh, Abigail. You didn't have to..." the older man smiled.

"As if I missed the presents _you_ put under here for all of us," she winked at him.

He let out a small laugh, "Very well, then. Hand them out for me, will you, my dear?"

"Guys, hold on," McGee said. "We should wait for Gibbs."

"Yeah, we should," Abby agreed. "And Jackson. I really didn't know he was gonna be here. And I wasn't sure what to get him. So, I got him a bottle of Jack... Does that seem too impersonal?"

"Oh hell...really?" Tim grimaced. "I got him a bottle of Glenfiddich..."

"Good god," Ducky broke out in a fit of laughter. "I got the man a bottle of Macallan! I do hope he won't be under the impression that we believe him to be a drunkard!"

"Well," Ziva sighed, "I got him and Gibbs each a bottle of that bourbon...Gentleman Jack. I suppose that does not help..."

"Oh no!" Ducky's laughter reignited. "I got him the Glen Edinburgh!"

"Hell!" Abby shouted. "No! That's what I got Gibbs, too!"

"Gentleman Jack," Tim sighed.

"You people..." Tony laughed. "You're gonna give the both of them a complex."

"It certainly does seem that way, doesn't it?" Ducky's laughter continued. "Good heavens! It's been quite a while since I laughed so hard!"

They all laughed, but perhaps mostly at the red face of the eldest in the room who continued his laughter.

"What'd we miss?" Jackson asked as he and Gibbs entered the living room.

"Only the funniest coincidence ever," Abby said as she stood and handed McGee a gift.

"You know how I feel about coincidences, Abs," Gibbs smirked.

"Which is why I find it very hard to believe you've completely dismissed the possibility that Santa is real," she returned the smirk with narrowed eyes as she handed him and Jackson each their gifts from her. Gibbs smiled at her as both men took a seat on the couch. "Now, don't take this the wrong way, either of you," she continued with a serious face. "It really is a complete coincidence...and saying nothing at all about...what we think...about... Well, just know that we didn't exactly corroborate when buying your gifts this year."

"Alright, Abby," Gibbs shook his head with a grin. "I'm sure whatever it is, we'll like it."

"Oh you'll like it," she nodded. "But it's the amount...that may seem a bit...well, you'll see."

"Okay," he tore the wrapping which revealed the marked wooden box, telling him what he'd received. "This is perfect, Abs," he smiled.

"Yeah!" Jackson agreed as he opened his. "I was runnin' low on my bottle at home. Although, with all these new airport laws, I don't know if I'll be able to get it back with me."

"Oh my god, I didn't even think!" Abby grimaced.

"Oh, none of us did," Tim said as he put two bottles in front of the men. Ziva did the same, and then Ducky.

The room was silent a moment. Then Abby spoke, "We really don't think either of you have a problem with alcohol...promise..."

And Ducky could no longer hold in the laughter. It started out as a long outburst of air that caught the attention of both Gibbs's. And as it grew into a hearty laugh, Jackson and Gibbs both smiled and joined him in the fit. Soon, the entire room was in happy tears, desperately trying to stop.

Ziva found herself kneeling beside Tony as he held his stomach, which was sore from laughing. She linked an arm around one of his and leaned in a bit to place a kiss on his cheek. He looked at her with shining eyes.

He felt a warmth about him; this roomful of people meant more to him than anything in the world. He was the luckiest person alive, he was pretty sure.

Tony wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her side into his, laying his cheek on the top of her head when she laid hers on his shoulder. And they watched the happy group of people dive into their presents...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: One more chapter to go! Then I will post a most disturbingly sad, angsty and whumpful alternate ending... No idea how many chapters that will be! **


	25. To My Son, With Love

"I got everyone a little somethin'," Gibbs spoke up once the rest of the gifts had been opened. "But not all of them survived. Nothin' much, really. Just some things I came across that made me think of ya. None of these are wrapped; didn't have the time, really."

He handed a small box to Ziva. "This was actually Tony's idea," he smirked. "Which means I need to come up with another one, so you can steal it, DiNozzo," he grinned at him. Tony let out a small laugh, and Gibbs handed Abby her gift. "You both actually got the same thing, basically. Except Ziva, yours is for your star. Tony thought you needed a stronger chain. And Abs, I saw that charm and had to get it for you."

"Aw, Gibbs! It's so cute!" Abby said as she examined it.

"This is...very thoughtful," Ziva said as she played the chain through her fingers. She placed the box down on the floor in front of her and lifted her hair and undid the clasp on her necklace. Carefully, she slid the star from its old chain and fit it to the new one.

"Here, lemme give you a hand," Tony offered, taking the necklace carefully from her. She gave a warm smile and lifted her hair once more as Tony fit the chain around her neck and clasped it together. "There. Looks nice," he complimented.

"Thank you. Thank you both," she smiled at Gibbs.

Gibbs nodded and handed Ducky his gift, "Had to get this when I saw it."

"Oh my," Ducky examined the glasses-stand. "This is quite...intriguing."

"It's for your night-table, Duck. Holds your glasses."

"Ah! I see! How clever," he removed his glasses and tested the device. "Quite clever, indeed! Thank you, Jethro."

"And the other half of your gift can be you helpin' me through at least one of these bottles over the next year," he smirked.

"A task I'm certain we can handle," Ducky quipped. "And we'll be sure to ship yours to you as you need them, Jackson," he added.

"Or maybe I can leave a couple here for your New Year's," Jackson replied. "Seein' as I didn't get anything for anyone just yet."

"You don't need to do that, Dad," Gibbs told him.

"He's right, ya know," Tony chimed in. "You bein' here for the holiday is a great present to all of us."

Jackson just about blushed. "Kid, ya flatter an old man, ya know?"  
"Part of my charm," he grinned widely. "But seriously, it's real great to have you."

"Yes," Ziva agreed.

"Absolutely," Tim added.

"Aw, guys!" Abby cooed, "This is like the sweetest Christmas ever!"

"Ah, not too sure of that, just yet," Gibbs said as he picked up the second bag. "Already told my dad what happened to his gift," he explained. "This bag, apparently, was wedged in the back corner of the trunk and got beat up a bit. McGee," he pulled out a battered rectangular box, "Yours is still intact, for the most part. But it'll need a new ink cart."

McGee furrowed his brow as he took the box from his boss and opened it. Inside, there was an exquisite silver pen with the engraving, 'Thom E. Gemcity' on the side. Though the black ink that had undoubtedly been inside of it, had spilled out all over the inside of the package. "Boss...this is...I don't know what to say," he met the man's eyes. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"You're welcome, Tim. Sorry it didn't get to you in working condition, though."

"That's no fault of yours," he dismissed. "This is perfect."

"Glad ya like it," he reached back into the bag, then paused a minute. Looking into the bottom of the bag, he swallowed. It broke his heart that this had been ruined. Not that he couldn't go get another one... But he'd really wanted Tony to get this today.

The group must have sensed his hesitancy, and Ducky knew Gibbs enough to tell that this should be a private moment between he and Tony. "What's say the lot of us clean up breakfast and perhaps prepare the turkey for roasting," he suggested as he stood.

They all seemed to catch on immediately and stood as well; Ducky laying a hand on Tony's shoulder so that he would get the point that he needed to stay put. Gibbs gave Ducky a thankful nod as the group cleared out.

"Boss? You okay?" Tony asked as he moved to sit beside him on the couch.

Gibbs nodded, mutely. "Glass broke," he said a bit quietly. "And ink from McGee's pen got all over it..."

"I told you, I don't care about getting a present, Gibbs..." he insisted.

"But I wanted you to have it. So, I'm allowed to be disappointed," he raised a brow at him.

"Okay. Fair enough... So do I still get it?" he asked with a bit of excitement.

Gibbs reached into the bag and as he picked up the object, the glass could be heard falling into the bottom of the bag. "It _was_ a box to keep your future medals," he told him as he handed the broken metal box to him. What once was glass window in the lid, was just an open square of space, and the rest of the lid was splashed with black ink, now long-dried. "Ya know, if you've got room in that bottom drawer at your desk," he smirked.

Tony ran his finger over the engraved plate under what used to be a window. Half of it was blackened with ink, but he could still make out what it said. _'To my son, with love. -L.J.G.'_

Tony swallowed a lump that was quickly swelling in his throat.

"I know it's not much," Gibbs said, "But it's a lot harder to shop for you than I thought. I have no idea what movies you don't have, and-" He was cut off as Tony turned in his seat after setting the box down on the coffee table, and threw his arms around him in an embrace.

"It's the best, Gibbs," he said in nearly a whisper.

"But it's broken..."

"It's perfect," he insisted. "Thank you...so much. Means a lot to me."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he returned the tight hug. "It's the truth, Tony; how I feel."

Tony sniffled and pulled away, turning his face toward the box, intentionally keeping the impending tears from spotted. "I should put this upstairs...so the other kids don't get jealous," he let out a small laugh. Gibbs shook his head with a smile as the younger agent headed toward the stairs with his gift.

Before placing the box in his bag, Tony ran his thumb over the plate once more with a smile. He glanced up toward the ceiling in thought. "Miss ya, Dad," he said in barely a whisper. "But I've got someone watchin' my six...like he always has. I hope you can appreciate that, now..." He felt at peace as he glanced down at the box again, before sliding it into his bag. Then he headed back downstairs.

When he reached the floor level, everyone was in the kitchen, working amusingly at getting the turkey prepared to go in the oven. He stood in the doorway for a long moment, just watching them. The extent to which they'd each gone for him, was more touching than anything anyone had ever done for him in his entire life. And it filled him with such a sense of love, that he couldn't think of any one of them as anything less than his family...

_"This is my family..."_ he thought, and smiled once more.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs shouted. "You gonna just stand there? Or are ya gonna help out here?"

"Sorry, Boss," he replied with a small laugh. "Didn't realize the six of you couldn't handle a bird." The head-slap wasn't that big of a surprise. And either was the sense of belonging that came with it. Much like the feeling he'd been implanted with by every person in that room...

~Fin~

**11 00 11 00 11**

**A/N: Woo! Done... Now on to the alternate ending... Beware, all ye who enter beyond this point. ;)**


	26. If He Hadn't Been So Lucky

**WARNING: The following is an alternate ending to Futile Beholder. But when I think about it, it's pretty much an alternate 2nd half of the entire story lol. Picks up right after chapter 18.**

**Many things ahead that I should probably mention are graphic in nature, but won't say in detail here, because I don't wanna ruin the story.**

**So this will probably be several chapters long; not just one or two, as it'll be a lot more involved than happy sappy holiday cheer. ;) Enjoy, sadists! Hahahaha xD**

**11 00 11 00 11**

"People here for Mr. Gibbs?" a doctor's voice caused them to shoot up from their chairs.

"That's us," Tony supplied.

"Either of you don't happen to be a uh...Jackson Gibbs," he read from a chart he held in his hands, "Or an Anthony DiNozzo Jr., do you?"

"I'm Anthony DiNozzo," Tony spoke, showing the man his badge.

The doctor nodded, "You're the only two listed in next of kin, and they only people I can speak to about Mr. Gibbs' condition at the moment," he told him.

"_Agent_ Gibbs," Tony corrected. "Tell me. Is he okay?" he asked, impatiently.

The doctor glanced, briefly, to Abby, then back to him. "Perhaps we can go somewhere a bit more private-"

"She works with us," Tony interrupted. "She's like a daughter to him. Whatever you have to say, you can say it to both of us."

The doctor nodded, "Very well. Agent Gibbs was brought in unconscious. He has yet to regain consciousness, and from what little we've gotten out of radiology, in combination with obvious external head injury, we believe he may have some cerebral hemorrhaging. We're prepping him a CT, scheduled for as soon as possible, which shouldn't be much longer now."

"Brain damage?" Tony was surprised the words passed his lips, with the sinking feeling that had him finding it difficult to remain even the slightest bit calm, let alone breathe.

"I can't dismiss the possibility. Right now, he's breathing on his own, and that's a good sign. But there's no response to external stimuli. As of this moment, I can't make an accurate diagnosis until we can get him through a CT, and possibly an MRI, if necessary. The rest of him looks to be in good condition; x-rays showed there are no broken bones, aside from the skull fracture, obviously. That's our major concern; we need to look more closely at that to determine the best course of treatment for him."

"Can we see him?" Tony's voice cracked.

"One visitor at a time in the Critical Ward," the doctor clarified.

"Go ahead, Tony," Abby said, releasing her tight grip around his arm, that he only now realized she'd had.

Blindly, he was led down a long stretch of halls to a dimly lit room. "Some of our techs will be in shortly to bring him for the CT," the doctor explained. "You can stay as long as you want, but those scans usually take a while."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Tony said, quietly. The doctor nodded in understanding before allowing him to enter to room.

Tony stepped up to Gibbs' bedside and appraised him with weary, anxious eyes. Though a bit on the pale side, with his head wrapped in gauze that had begun to bleed through a bit, the older man seemed to simply be sleeping. "You don't look so bad, Boss," Tony said with a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I told you, this last-minute Christmas shopping was a bad idea," he let out a breathy laugh that ended it a choked sob.

Tony pulled a chair close to the bed, and before he sank into it, he laid a gentle hand on the exposed part of Gibbs' forehead. Then, as he sat, he took the man's still hand in both of his shaky ones. "I've seen you in worse shape, Gibbs. You'll pull through this, just like all the other times. You're practically indestructible," he grinned as though the older agent could see him; as if he needed to show him that he was being strong for him. "You'll pull through this... you'll pull through this," he repeated, unsure of whom, exactly, he was trying to convince...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	27. CT Discovery

Within twenty minutes of his visit, the techs came in to take Gibbs for his CT. Tony watched him rolled away until he was behind Radiology doors, and then made his way back out to the waiting room.

Abby was pacing, and as soon as she saw him, she ran up to him, "Tony!" she hugged him. "How is he?"

"Going to get a CT," he told her, and as he looked ahead, he saw McGee and...someone he hadn't expected at all. "Jack?" Abby pulled away from him.

"How's my boy look, Tony?" Jackson asked as they approached him.

"He looks...good, considering," Tony told him. "How'd you get here so fast?" he asked, incredulously.

"Was already here," he supplied, considerably calmer after Tony's small insight on his son. "Came to spend Christmas with my boys. How're ya holdin' up, Tony? I'm sorry about your old man," he placed a hand on Tony's arm.

"Thanks, Jack," Tony whispered. "It's...good to see you; circumstances aside."

"Don't you worry too much about Leroy," he gave a small smile. "He's a tough kid to break. But you all know that already, don't ya?" he glanced around the group.

"Yeah, we do," Abby replied for them.

"I'm gonna go use the restroom," he told them. "I had one too many cups of coffee on the flight here, and the traffic held us up for so long, I can almost taste it in the back of my throat," he scooted past them toward to bathroom.

Once Jackson was out of sight, McGee look over at Tony again. "Did he really look good?"

"If unconscious and bleeding from a skull fracture looks good..." Tony's words had a bit of bite to them, and he saw the pang of hurt in his probie's eyes before the younger agent looked down at the floor. "Look...Tim, I'm sorry. I'm just..."

"It's okay, Tony," he replied.

"No, it's not," he retorted. "This isn't your fault, and you said nothing wrong. I was just..." he looked away from his friends as he clenched his jaw. What was he, again? Oh right...scared.

"Good lord, the traffic!" Ducky said as he entered into the hospital and approached them. "How is he? Has anyone heard?"

"Skull fracture," Tony told him. "They think he may have some bleeding inside...They're running him through a CT now; just took him down."

"Then...I suppose there's nothing to be done for at least half an hour," the M.E said. "Except, wait, of course."

"There's coffee in the cafeteria," Tim said. "I can go get some for everyone...I think they have tea, too, Ducky."

"That, they do," he said. "I'll accompany you there. No sense in making you carry so much up here by yourself, especially since we've got a bit of a wait on our hands. Abigail, would you like something?"

"I'll go with you...but can we wait for Jackson to get back from the restroom? He might want something."

"Jackson's here? So soon?" Ducky asked.

"He flew in for Christmas," McGee explained, just as the man in question came back into the waiting room.

"Is that Ducky?" Jackson asked, knowingly, as he approached the group.

"Good to see you, old boy!" Ducky shook his hand. "Not in the current setting, though, of course. We were about to head down to the cafeteria for tea and coffee, if you'd care to join us?"

"Someone should stay up here...just in case they need permission for something," Jackson hesitated.

"I'll stay," Tony said. "I was planning to anyway, and I'm authorized to make medical decisions for him as well. Go ahead; you should take a load off, and your mind off of all this for a little while, at least," he gave Jackson's shoulder a light squeeze.

"Well...alright, Tony. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. And I'll call once he's out of the CT."

**11 00 11 00 11**

Fifteen minutes into the scan, Tony found himself restless as he sat in one of the waiting room chairs. He was about to call McGee and request a coffee be brought back with them for him, when Gibbs' radiologist came through the double doors and headed toward him.

Tony stood to meet him once he was certain the man was looking at him.

"Agent DiNozzo, there's been a discovery midway through the scan. We need to get Agent Gibbs into the O.R immediately for emergency surgery..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	28. Panic

_"Anthony, slow down,"_ Ducky requested as Tony worriedly tried to get him to come back up. _"What's happened?"_

Tony nervously paced the floor with the phone to one ear, and a hand over his other, "The doctor said he needed emergency surgery. There's a hematoma that's causing massive pressure...something about possibly causing him to stop breathing if they don't act now. I told them to do...whatever they...needed to do to save him," he was shaking now; losing his breath from pacing, or hyperventilating from panic...he couldn't tell which. "Ducky, I don't even know what I gave them permission to _do, _exactly!"

_"Alright, my boy, now take a breath. Calm down," _he spoke comfortingly. _"This may simply mean they're going to put a catheter into his brain to drain the fluid. It may not be necessary to do more invasive surgery."_

"He didn't have time to explain," Tony told him. "He- he had to go. I didn't ask. I just told him to go- go save him."

_"And that's what they're in the process of doing, Tony. Now, I'll head up there to you in a moment with Jackson. Do try and calm yourself by then, for his sake."_

"I'm tryin', Ducky. I...alright. I'm gonna go outside. Can't breathe in here, right now..."

*~.~*

"Tony, what do you mean you can't breathe?" Ducky asked, but then realized the call had been ended. "Oh my," he let out a breath. _"Jethro...you'd be the one I'd call right now,"_ he thought. _"Unfortunately, I don't have that option. But I know two people who might be suited to assist..."_

Ducky made his way back into the cafeteria. "Timothy, if you would please be so kind as to bring up something for Tony to drink, and something light to eat. I'm betting he's had little in either department today." Tim nodded without hesitancy, and turned to get back in line.

"You're right," Abby confirmed. "We were making cookies, and he said he was saving his stomach for the big dinner he'd planned to make tonight..."

"I'll need you to do something else for him," Ducky told her. "Excuse us a moment, Jack," Ducky said as he pulled her to the side.

"What's wrong, Ducky?" she asked.

"I believe our young Anthony is having a very difficult time remaining calm at the moment. They just rushed Jethro into emergency surgery to remove a hematoma." Abby covered her mouth as she attempted to stifle a gasp. "I'm sure they caught it in time," he assured her. "But in light of what Tony's already been through, he's beginning to lose whatever resolve he'd been holding on to. Right now, he's outside trying to catch his breath. Before Tim gets up there, I suggest you run ahead and see if you can't talk some reassurance to him."

She nodded, mutely, which in itself almost frightened the M.E. But she left to do the task bidden to her, and Ducky found himself turning back to face the man he needed to bring upstairs and tell the current news to...

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Oh, Tony..." Abby said, softly, once she found him outside sitting on a cement hedge perch with his head between his knees.

"Hey, Abs," he replied without moving from his position. "Some nurse put me like this," he told her. "Said I was having an anxiety attack. She actually went inside to check my chart to see if she couldn't get a doc to okay giving me something. I ever tell how much I really really hate not being able to breathe?"

"Is this helping?" she asked as she sat down beside him.

"A little..." he sounded unconvinced. "I'm not willing to get up and find out, though."

She put a gentle hand on his back and soothingly rubbed up and down. "Everything's gonna be okay," she told him. "You'll see."  
"When I see," he retorted, "Then I'll believe that. Not that I'm not hoping everything will be fine. But my gut...I can't tell if it's just fear, or a feeling of impending doom, and it's killin' me..." Abby felt the tremor that worked its way through Tony's body, then. "They're prodding around inside his brain, right now, Abs. Who knows what could go wrong? Who knows what's _already_ going wrong?" His rambling was cut short by a painful jab on his shoulder. "Ow, Abby!" he picked his head up so he could snake his other hand over to rub the sore spot.

"Don't you dare," the broken sound in her voice made him meet her eyes; they were filled with unshed tears. "Not you..."

That's when he realized, he was supposed to be the one keeping them together; keeping their hopes and spirits high, and bringing them through this with a level head. And he'd been the first one to fall apart.

He forced himself to sit up and suck up whatever fears he had. "I'm sorry, Abs...You're right. I'm sorry," he pulled her to him and hugged her. "Everything's gonna be okay..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	29. You Smell Like Christmas Cookies

Ducky and Jackson were the first allowed in to see Gibbs in recovery. The doctors where happy to announce that he'd regained consciousness, and it had lifted everyone's spirits to a degree that they were able to relax the tightened muscles in their stomachs for the first time since the accident.

Tony was relieved enough to eat the sandwich and small bag of chips that McGee had brought up for him. He even felt like he could breathe freely now, for the first time since the dreadful short-cut phone call that morning...

In the recovery room, Ducky allowed Jackson to his son's bedside first, as he, himself, went to the foot of the bed to look over his chart.

Jackson put a hand over one of his son's, and Gibbs opened his eyes to look at him. "Dad," he said, a bit weakly.

"Leroy," Jackson smiled. "It's good to see you awake, son," he patted his hand.

"Sorry...'bout the car, Dad," he said and tried to clear his throat.

"I don't care about the car," he shook his head. "Can't replace my son," he lightly tapped Gibbs' cheek.

"Very true, indeed," Ducky said as he approached the other side of the bed. Gibbs' eyes trailed to meet Ducky's. "So, I take it you remember the accident?"

"Nurse told me-" his sentence ended in a cough.

"Would you like a bit of water, Jethro?" he asked. Gibbs nodded and Jackson was the one to bring the cup with a straw to his mouth. "Not too much just yet." After a few sips, Jackson took the cup away. "Better?" Ducky asked.

Gibbs nodded. "Nurse told me the car was crushed. That I'm lucky to be alive."

"Indeed, you are," Ducky replied. "You gave us all quite a scare."

"Duck...need to ask a favor," he said in a quiet voice.

"Anything, my friend."

"Need you to get to my car. In the trunk...there's a few bags."

"I hardly think that's necessary right now, Jethro..."

"Please, Ducky...it's important," his eyes pleaded with the older man. "There's something in there I don't want to disappear. I just...if you could just take 'em to my house. That's all I'm askin'."

Ducky took a long breath, "Alright, Jethro. I'll take care of it. But you must promise to get some rest." He held up a hand before Gibbs could argue, "No argument, Jethro. You just had surgical procedure done to your brain and you have a fractured skull. You need your rest, and you need to do as your doctors tell you, preferably without giving them a hard time," he raised a brow.

"That's a tall order," Gibbs gave a groggy smirk.

"One I expect you to follow," Ducky told him. Gibbs shifted his shoulders and groaned at the sharp discomfort he felt in the muscles of his chest.

"You in pain, Leroy?" Jackson asked.

Gibbs swallowed, "Just ache...everywhere."

"That's to be expected," Ducky told them. "You were jarred around when the truck hit you. Though you have no other injuries, you'll no doubt be quite sore for a while. But the nurse went to get you something for the pain, now that the stuff they gave you during surgery is wearing off."

Gibbs nodded and took a breath as he looked up at the ceiling. Then it occurred to him that he'd been on the phone before the accident. "Tony..." he remembered, and he looked over at Ducky again. "I was talkin' to him on the phone..."

"Yes. He was quite worried about you, Jethro," he informed him. "He and Abigail went to find you at the site of the accident; saw the car and imagined the worst."

"Is he here?"

"He's been here from the start," Jackson answered for him. "Hasn't left the floor, since."  
"He knows I'm okay, though," he asked his father.

"He does, now," he replied.

"One of your nurses was kind enough to pull his chart and administer him something for his nerves," Ducky supplied. "He's with Timothy and Abby in the waiting room, right now, having a bit to eat."

Gibbs sighed and ran a hand down his face. "So much for makin' this a nice Christmas for him."

"Now, Leroy," Jackson sat on the edge of the bed, "That boy cares more about you than any silly old holiday. You comin' through this is what he cares about right now."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Ducky agreed.

"But I'd set everything up so he could have somethin' close to a family Christmas, then ruined it by lettin' this happen..."

"No, Boss," Tony's voice at the door caused them all to glance over. "They're right; you pulling through this is all that matters to me," he entered the room and approached the side of the bed as Ducky made room for him. "Sorry...I know I was supposed to wait 'til they moved you to ICU, but I just couldn't." He grabbed onto Gibbs' hand that was closest to him, "I had to see, for myself, that you were okay."

"Tony, I'm sorry-"

"No, Gibbs...please..." he shook his head. "I get what you were gonna do, and I can't tell you how much that means to me," he swallowed a lump in his throat as he met Gibbs' eyes. "But nothing could make this Christmas better, than you getting through this, Boss..."

The lead agent could tell his senior field agent had been worried. He could see it clearly in his eyes. But he could also see that he was speaking nothing but the truth, and that being in this room now had given him an immense amount of relief. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"You smell like Christmas cookies," he told him with a straight face. Tony's eyes flashed with a bit of confusion for a moment. Then he looked down at himself, then to Ducky, who cocked his head and shrugged.

When he met Gibbs' eyes again, he was smiling, silently laughing. It made Tony smile. "Guess I should go back to the house and change..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Oh look! No cliffie... ya know what that means, right? Yeah... ;) Next chapter up in the morning, if you're super nice xD**


	30. Backsliding

Once Gibbs was moved to ICU and fixed up with regular pain management, Abby was finally allowed in to see him. But he'd fallen asleep soon after, and she and Jackson decidedly sat in silent vigil beside the bed.

McGee had briefly stopped in to greet him, but left to take Tony to the house so that he could change clothes, and then they'd stop and get Abby's car on the way back, to take to the hospital lot.

Once they returned, Abby would take Jackson back to the house to get settled, and return in the morning to bring him back to the hospital. They'd secretly made plans to bring some Christmas items for his room, and a few gifts to brighten the day.

But no one was willing to leave Gibbs alone at the hospital. Tim and Tony would have the night shift. And Tony was fairly certain there'd be no way he could sleep otherwise.

As the group made their silent switch, Ducky was still speaking with the doctor somewhere in the hospital.

The ICU room was fairly dark, with only a light coming from somewhere behind the hospital bed. That, and the glow from McGee's phone, which he was currently texting on. That's when something occurred to Tony.

"Hey, McGoo?" he whispered. Tim looked at him in question. "You're not going to your parents' for Christmas?"

Tim shook his head, "Honestly? I was gonna come over tomorrow morning to Gibbs' place and spend it with you all."

"Won't your family be disappointed?" Tony asked, incredulously.

"This _is_ my family, Tony," he explained, with seriousness in his tone. "I thought it'd be nice, for a change. And besides, I'll be going up there for New Year's. If we don't get a case, that is," he smirked.

Tony swallowed, "You stayed here for me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, DiNozzo," Tim smiled and shook his head, then met his partner's shining eyes and couldn't mess with him any longer. "Yeah, Tony... I kinda stayed here to spend Christmas with you. I thought it'd be nice, ya know, doing it without it being forced because of work and all. You guys are like a second family to me. The least I could do was show up and spend the day with you."

Tony was speechless as he looked upon his partner..no, his friend.

"You're a good man, McGee," Gibbs' voice sounded, weakly, from the bed, and they both looked over at him.

"Didn't mean to wake you up, Boss," McGee told him, apologetically.

"I was just resting my eyes," he told them with a smirk. His smirk quickly turned to a grimace.

Both agents stood, but Tony was by Gibbs' side in a flash, "You in pain, Boss? Should I call for a nurse?"

"Jus' my neck," he slurred.

McGee spotted the sudden irregularity on the monitor that showed his heartrate, and shared a quick glance with Tony before hurrying out of the room to get a doctor.

"Where on your neck?" Tony asked as one of his hands moved up to check and see if there was, perhaps, something he could feel.

"B-back of it... Feels like...burning," he squeaked out, and suddenly the monitor started to alarm beside him.

Tony's eyes shot to the monitor to see the dangerously low heartrate and oxygen levels, before snapping his attention back to the man in the bed. "Boss?" Gibbs seemed to be gasping for breath. "Gibbs, calm down...it's gonna be okay. McGee went to get a doctor," his voice cracked as Gibbs' hand latched onto his arm. His eyes suddenly rolled up into his head, and the monitor flat-lined.

"Gibbs?" he pressed a hand to his boss's chest and shook him. The only effect was Gibbs' hand dropping to the mattress. "Gibbs!" …

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: You didn't really think that the little emergency surgery was all I was gonna do, now...did ya? ;)**


	31. The Sound of Death

Ducky had been among the several members of hospital staff that rushed into the room just moments later.

Tony felt himself pulled away from Gibbs' bedside, unable to even struggle against whomever was maneuvering him toward the door. His eyes were too focused on the ashen face of his boss, and his ears on the sound of death emanating from the monitor. He could see nothing, hear nothing else...

Tim had hold of Tony's arms from behind the slightly older man as he tried to pull him from the room. "We have to leave, Tony!" he told him. But the senior field agent didn't seem to register anything being said to him as he clung to the door frame in efforts to continue his observation of what they were doing to his boss.

Tim gave up the struggle and turned in the doorway to watch them work. He, too, was afraid; dumbstruck by what had just happened, and terrified that they might lose Gibbs. He chanced a glance at Tony, beside him, still clinging to the frame as he looked on in horror.

Tears rapidly filled his eyes. "Gibbs...c'mon..." he whispered, but Tim could hear him even over the alarms and chatter between the staff. "Please...please, Boss..."

Tim couldn't look at him anymore as the burning overwhelmed his eyes and the lump grew heavy in his throat. But all he could see now, was the doctors intubating Gibbs as they performed CPR. One was readying paddles.

"Clear!" she shouted and they all stood back as she placed them. Tim and Tony both jumped in response to seeing Gibbs' body lifting from the voltage...

_Baltimore...10 years ago..._

_ "Where ya goin', DiNozzo?" Agent Gibbs asked the clearly peeved detective as he headed to his car with a packed box._

_ He paused, only for a moment, before resuming his course, "Where's it look like, Gibbs?" he asked as he stuck a key into the trunk lock and opened it up. "I'm out of a job... But I guess you knew that, huh?" he set the box inside the trunk and slammed it closed before turning to face the man that was standing beside him now. "What is it you want from me? I did everything you asked... and look where it got me."_

_Gibbs stood there with a smirk on his face, silently, for a few moments. _

_ "Are you actually happy I lost my job?" Tony asked, incredulously._

_ "A little," he replied._

_ "What the hell, Gibbs..." he shook his head, then brushed past him to get to the driver door._

_ "I'm happy, because I want you to come work for _me_." His reply caused Tony to pause another moment. "Makes it easier when there's no waiting period...ya know; notice, and all."_

_ Tony turned around with that same incredulous look on his face. "You want _me _to come work for _you_ at NCIS?" Gibbs nodded. "And you can just...hire whoever you want? No questions asked?"_

_ "Think I didn't look through your file?" he quirked a brow._

_ For a moment, Tony didn't reply. But then a grin lifted one corner of his mouth. "'Course, ya did," he let out a small laugh. "And ya still want me to work for you. Guess ya just skimmed?"_

_ "You takin' the offer or what, DiNozzo?" he asked._

_ Tony appraised him for a moment, then glanced over at the building he used to call his place of employment. Then looked back at Gibbs. "When do I start?"_

_ Gibbs smiled, then turned on his heel to walk away, "See ya bright an' early Monday morning," he told him. "Don't be late!"_

_ As the older agent got into his company-issued car with one of his team, Tony allowed a smile to slip on his face. "See ya Monday... Boss." _

Present...

"We've got a pulse!" A tech shouted.

Suddenly, Tony could breathe again. But before they could comprehend what was happening, they were shoved out of the room, and Gibbs was being wheeled out and down the hall.

"Where are they taking him?" he asked Ducky.

"The original CT was interrupted mid-way," he reminded him. "They're going to run him through an MRI."

"Why? What happened? Why did that happen, Ducky?" Tony asked.

"That's what they intend to find out, dear boy," Ducky put a hand on his arm. "I'm afraid there will be more waiting on our hands..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	32. Those Calls

_McGee_

I watched Tony pace for nearly half an hour. Perhaps he was trying to keep up with how fast his mind was racing. But I'd never quite seen that level of panic from this man; this intense anxiety that played out in every muscle in his body and every contour of his face.

Sure, I've seen him nervous; even anxious. But this was different. This was somehow...more. And there was nothing I could do or say that would pull him from his mind. So I watched him. I waited there, and wouldn't leave; wouldn't make a phone call.

I was worried about Gibbs, yes. The man is like a second father to me, in a way. The kind that's really hard to impress, but when you do, it's one of the greatest feelings in the world. Losing him would be a tragedy. In fact, it'd be downright devastating...and I could see, then, a glimpse of what Tony must be feeling.

Gibbs is like a father to him; at least in his own mind. I have no idea what level that might be reciprocated. But I do know that losing Gibbs would undoubtedly destroy a big part of Tony. Especially since it's so soon after his actual father's death.

God... this is such a disaster... Gibbs had been trying, so hard, to make Christmas a bit less horrible for Tony. And now...well, now it was even worse than it would've been without intervention.

What will they find on that MRI? What's happening to him? Will he recover? Will he be permanently damaged and unable to work again? Would he come out of this without a noticeable scratch, or would he come out of it at all...?

I look up when I notice Tony's stopped pacing. And he's looking directly at me, where I'm sitting. He looks conflicted; pained in a way I can't really describe. And then he sinks down into the chair beside mine without looking away from me, puts a hand on my arm, which I realize, then, is clinging to the armrest, and gives it a reassuring squeeze before he looks back over at the door and resumes the wait in silence.

That's when I realize that I must have outwardly shown my own fears, and he'd sucked up whatever he'd been feeling, to be a good friend and comfort me in whatever way he was capable of at that moment.

I felt a twinge of guilt and cringed at just how pathetic I am. Here was this man, my mentor, and best friend, suffering and spiraling into his own pit of despair, and all I can do is sit here... And he ends up being the one trying to make _me_ feel better.

God...why do I suck at this?

**11 00 11 00 11**

It's been hours.

Tony feels slightly akin to a zombie as he tries to ignore the pain in his skull and the burning in his eyes. McGee drifted off a while ago in the chair beside him, just after they'd seen the sunrise begin. He'd told Tony, "Merry Christmas," with a sad smile.

But once the younger agent had drifted off, it had allowed Tony to sneak out of the room and up the hall toward Radiology. He'd had to duck a corner when he saw Ducky and another doctor speaking, so that he could listen in on the conversation.

The doctors' words replayed in his head, over and over...even now...

_"What have you found?" Ducky's voice was clear._

_ The other doctor sighed, "What we didn't see in the CT, which we didn't have time to complete, was the beginning stages of cerebral edema. There are also contusions, and the fact that he went into respiratory and cardiac arrest, suggests there was more damage to the brain stem than we'd __anticipated. His regaining of consciousness after the initial surgery to drain fluids, caused us to believe that it wasn't severe."_

_ "Clearly, you were mistaken," Ducky sounded frustrated. "There should have been another CT, at least, once the emergency surgery was completed. I find it difficult to believe that wasn't ordered immediately."_

_ "We had planned to do it, Dr. Mallard," the doctor defended. "We wanted to give him some time to recover; see if he'd wake up. He was scheduled for another CT this morning. Obviously, we'd been too optimistic about how well he was coming along."_

_ "Yes. Obviously. And now? What is his prognosis?"_

_ "Well," the doctor sighed again. "I see a lot more cases like this than I'll ever be willing to accept. But it happens, nonetheless. This type of brain injury, as I'm sure you are aware...it's very difficult to know until the patient wakes up; _If_ the patient wakes up," he clarified._

_ Tony flinched at the doctor's lack of bedside manner...though the truth was clear, they were harsh words to hear. But the next words, perhaps, hurt worst of all..._

_ "You may want to call any close friends and family," the doctor told him. "We're doing what we can, right now. He'll be back in the same recovery room, once he's out. But I think it'd be wise to contact them; let them say their goodbyes. Just in case..."_

Like every other time the words played over in his head, the renewed tears moistened his eyes. He quickly blinked them back and stood as Gibbs was wheeled into the room. The swarm of staff and machinery overwhelmed him a bit; he just wanted to see his boss. But he stood, quietly, awaiting their departure.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered where Ducky was. But most likely, he was making those 'calls'. McGee stirred beside him in the chair, he could hear, and suddenly he was standing next to him.

"I...I uh..." he stuttered, "I should get Jackson, right?" he asked Tony, quietly.

He nodded, "He's probably up by now." They'd not bothered to wake the others about what had happened the previous night. Let the ones who could sleep, sleep. They'd call them in the morning with an update; McGee would get Jackson and Abby... As far as anyone knew, aside from Tony and Ducky, that's exactly what they were doing...

Not the reality, which unfortunately was that they were coming to say their goodbyes...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	33. Alone

Once the crowd of nurses left the room, Tony slowly approached the bed. He couldn't fight the frown the pulled incessantly, though he tried to. He wanted to be strong, for Gibbs...

There were so many wires attached to him; tubes... Perhaps the most frightening, though he'd seen it on him before, was the ventilator. It wasn't so much the machine, but the nature of it. The mechanical rise and fall of Gibbs' chest, only verifying that the only reason he was breathing at all, was because of that machine...

The leads on his chest were there, he knew, to detect any sign of his heart going awry again. This, of course, would sound an alarm and bring nurses flooding back into the room to fix him again. Well, to keep him alive, anyway... There was no real hope they'd be able to fix him...was there?

Tony swallowed as he lay his hand over Gibbs' closest to him. There were fresh bandages on his head. He looked like he was sleeping...just like the first time he'd seen him after the accident. But at the time, he didn't have the professional opinion that he may never wake up... That he would lose him...

Tony didn't care who walked into the room, now, thought normally he would hide his tears; any emotion, really, when it counted. He didn't much care about anything, aside from the man that lay before him. Not right now...

"I'm not gonna watch you die, Gibbs," he told his sleeping form; voice cracking and he laid his other hand gently on Gibbs' cool cheek. "I can't watch you die..." came as a whisper.

"Now, Anthony," Ducky's voice close beside him caused him to jump, but he didn't look away from his boss. "You shouldn't give up on him," he laid a hand on the younger agent's shoulder.

Of course, Ducky didn't plan on telling him what the doctor had predicted for their friend. He wouldn't do that to Tony; Tony knew this. But he also knew the truth...

"Dear boy," Ducky moved his hand down a bit to grip his arm, "You're shaking. Are you alright?" Tony turned his head to look at him for a very brief moment before turning back to Gibbs. "Have you even slept at all?"

"How could I have?" he asked in a low voice. "How can I, when he's like this, Ducky?"

"He'll be asleep for a long while, Tony," Ducky explained. "They had to perform a few procedures to ensure he...not get any worse. Why don't you get a ride home...to Gibbs' house, with Timothy? Get a bit of sleep and then come back, if you must. I'll be sure to call you if he wakes up."

Tony suppressed the urge to laugh at the statement, and instead took a breath. "I think he's already left."

"Then I'll take you."

"No. He shouldn't be left alone."

"I assure you, he won't be alone."

"You know what I mean," Tony's voice cracked again as he looked over at him. The older man dropped his hand to his side. Ducky's expression, he noticed now, was doing very poorly about hiding the fact that he, too, was haunted with the knowledge he didn't know Tony also possessed. He was sad. Gibbs was his friend, too. They'd been friends longer that Tony had even knows Gibbs. He couldn't be frustrated with him. And the way he was acting, now, wasn't helping him... "I'll get a cab," Tony said, finally.

"I can take you, Anthony," he insisted.

"I don't want you to leave him here," Tony argued. "Not until there's someone else, at least. I can take a cab, Ducky. It's not a big deal. And it's that, or I'm staying."

Ducky took a breath and let it out, "Alright, lad." He put his hand back on Tony's arm and managed a soft smile, "Perhaps you can try to eat something, as well, while you're there."

Tony straightened himself, "I'll try."

**11 00 11 00 11**

"McGee!" Tony shouted as he stepped out of the front doors. The younger agent had just pulled out of the lot and made the journey down the path, which led in front of the hospital.

He stopped and rolled down the window with a furrowed brow. "Tony? What's wrong?"

"I just need a lift," he assured him. "I was gonna catch a cab, but I saw you...and you're headed over to Gibbs' house anyway."

"Actually, I just got off the phone with Abby, and she picked him up. They're on their way here, now. But I can give you a lift anyway; I need to go home and shower; get changed and all that."

"It's kind of out of your way, though..."

"It's not a problem, Tony. Really," he leaned over and pushed the passenger door open.

*~.~*

Half-way to the house, the silence was really getting to McGee. He kept glancing over at Tony, who seemed lost. He looked exhausted, yet refused to close his eyes. It was a bit disturbing.

"Are you okay?" McGee asked. "Did Gibbs...look okay?"

Tony blinked and his eyes darted around the dashboard. "He looked... He was sleeping."

"Did they say anything? Why it took so long? What it is they found, if they found anything?"

"More damage than they thought... More...contusions..." he shut his eyes and shook his head as he realized he'd just given information he wasn't supposed to. "They don't know anything," he decided to tell him. "They...they won't know...till he wakes up."

The remainder of the ride was quiet again. When they arrived at the house, Tony got out without a word.

"Call me when you wanna come back, Tony," McGee called out before Tony could shut the door.

Tony leaned down so he could meet his partner's eyes, "Thanks, Probie," he told him, then shut the door and slowly made his way toward the house.

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	34. Hope You Don't Mind, Boss

As soon as he closed the front door, Tony wasn't able to hold it in any longer. At the hospital and in the car, he had to keep some level of strength for his teammates. But here, now that he was alone, all the fear and overwhelming despair was able to pour out as high-powered as it needed to.

He slid down the length of the door until he was seated on the floor; too exhausted to even hold his head up. His body fell slowly to the side until he was laying, curled up on the floor, and his hands cradled his aching head as he wept tears he'd been holding inside for hours.

It hurt; everything hurt...so much. Losing his father was like letting go of a dream. But losing Gibbs was something he wasn't prepared for at all. Not like this... Not right now. It was too much.

In their line of work, losing a partner was something you had to be prepared for. But Gibbs was too good to be taken out. Tony had been pretty well convinced that his boss was indestructible. The possibility was there, as it was with all of his teammates. But he would never ever be prepared to lose him. It was one of the reasons he'd never taken that offer to Rota; he needed to stay with his team; needed to have Gibbs' six, no matter what.

Ducky's voice rang in his head. _"Have you even slept, at all?" __"__Get a bit of sleep and then come back, if you must. I'll be sure to call you if he wakes up..."_

If he wakes up... Will he wake up?

Tony pushed himself up off of the floor, with a great amount of effort to do so, and made his way to the living room. He plopped down onto the couch and eyed a recently opened bottle of bourbon on the coffee table, and two glasses. One with lipstick that was undoubtedly Abby's.

She must have stayed for a drink with Jackson...this must have been a gift meant for Gibbs for Christmas, but they'd needed it the night before, perhaps to sleep.

Sleep...

Tony was so tired. But he couldn't fathom the ability to even close his eyes. Maybe bourbon would help. Passing out is a form of sleep, right?

"Hope ya don't mind, Boss," he said aloud as he pulled the bottle and one of the glasses closer to him. "Doctor's orders and all," he twisted the top off of the bottle and poured a significant amount into the glass. He took a deep breath as he gazed at the glass. This would be painful... It was a sipping type of drink, but right now, it was purely for medicinal purposes. And maybe the pain would distract him from the pain he wanted so desperately not to feel right now.

He closed his eyes, once the glass reached his lips, and tossed the glass back as he chugged the painfully strong liquid. It burned; not unfamiliarly. But for this quantity, it was more intense than past attempts to drink this in one shot.

He muttered a curse as he slammed the glass down on the table, and coughed against the burn. But damn did it feel good to feel pain in his chest that _wasn't _coming from his heart.

He poured another glass, but decided to drink this one a bit slower. He was already beginning to feel its effects.

Tony's foot connected with something beside the coffee table and he looked down to inspect it. Three bags from, where Tony knew was, the mall. Someone must have retrieved Gibbs' bags from the car...

Unable to resist, Tony picked up one of the bags and set it in his lap. He took a long sip of his drink before setting it down on the table and turning his attention to Gibbs' purchases. The first thing he pulled out was a long rectangular box. There were two like this. The first was clearly something he'd picked up for Abby. He smiled at the little charm; she'd love it.

He set it down on the coffee table, and decidedly got up from the couch to fetch the newspaper and a roll of tape. He'd wrap and label these things for Gibbs...as long as he could figure out who they were going to. With his investigative skills, he was pretty certain he could do the job.

Armed with a red Sharpie, he wrapped and labeled Abby's and what he realized was Ziva's chain. "Way to steal my idea, Boss," he smirked, and took another sip of his drink. The wooden glasses stand wasn't too difficult to realize its intended recipient. Who could forgot Mrs. Mallards yapping mutts?

Tony placed the three gifts beneath the tree and stood, swaying a bit before making his way back to the couch and refilling his glass. The first bag was empty. He balled it up and reached for the next one. The sound of broken glass took him a bit by surprise, "Oh shit.." he carefully placed it on the table in front of him after moving the bottle out of the way.

A photo album was the first item he pulled from the bag, careful not to touch the glass that seemed to be everywhere. The album was empty, but the binding was beautiful. Leather, and etched with designs he couldn't quite place at the moment. But something was spilled all over it. Black ink, perhaps; dried now.

Tony wasn't sure who this was for, but he assumed that it might be for Jackson. And that Gibbs had planned to fill it before handing it over. He set it on the couch beside himself, for the time being. Just incase he was wrong.

He reached back into the bag again, and pulled out another rectangular box. This one was covered in the same black mystery substance. He opened it, and immediately had his suspicions verified. There sat the culprit for the blackened disaster that wreaked havoc on this bag of gifts. A nice looking pen, and now that he looked more closely, he saw an engraving. He smiled. It was for McGee.

The pen looked intact. No doubt, it would need a new ink cartridge. But he wrapped and labeled it anyway and placed it under the tree. As he came back to the table, he refilled his glass. How many is that now? He'd lost count.

After taking another long drink, he reached back into the bag, avoiding any of the glass as it fell unceremoniously to the pile already accumulated at the bottom. This was the last item. He placed the bag on the floor and put the metal box in his lap. The glass came from this box; a window that once made up most of the lid. It, too, was covered with black ink.

There was a small plate beneath that window, and he could see that it was engraved. He picked the box up closer to his face as he tried to read it.

_To my son, with love. -L.J.G._

His son? Tony looked around at the things he'd already wrapped and allowed these facts to roam around his head for a moment. His mind flashed to the humidor he'd given Gibbs; its engraving. Then his eyes shot back down to the box. Tears filled his eyes. This gift was meant for _him_. Gibbs got this for Tony...

His chin quivered as he ran his thumb over the plate. It touched his heart somewhere he didn't even realize existed, and broke it, all at the same time.

Horrid thoughts raced through his mind, then. This was all his fault... If Tony hadn't been such an emotional wreck, Gibbs wouldn't have felt the need to bring him into his home. He wouldn't have felt the need to go Christmas shopping and spend the day getting this engraved for him. He wouldn't have been sitting in that traffic in the very spot that truck happened to ram into...

He wouldn't be lying on his death bed...

Sucking in a breath once he realized he hadn't in a while, he pulled his phone from his pocket and hit one of his several programmed speed-dial numbers; this one, being a cab. He needed to get out of there. Needed to sleep. Clearly, the alcohol wasn't working fast enough, and at least at his own place, there was a bottle of rarely used prescription sleeping meds in his bathroom cabinet. Rarely used because he rarely had the opportunity for eight hours of sleep, anyway.

Tony didn't want to feel this pain anymore. He needed to sleep, as Ducky had suggested. At least it wouldn't seem so horribly unending. If Gibbs was going to wake up...well, Tony would rather be asleep until he did...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	35. Cold

McGee entered the hospital once again, after having had a shower and changed into some fresh clothes. He was preoccupied with the state in which he dropped off his partner earlier. He had been since then, actually. Just a feeling in his gut he wasn't sure how to place, and it had been eating away at him.

"Timothy," Ducky's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked over at the M.E who sat a few feet away in the waiting area. He made his way over and sat down beside him. The look on Ducky's face indicated no change. "Jackson and Abigail are sitting with him, right now," he informed him. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, Ducky. I'm fine," he furrowed a brow, confused as to why he'd asked.

"I was considering checking in on Tony," Ducky told him. "He caught a cab back to Jethro's house earlier."

"Actually, he caught me outside on his way out," McGee told him. "I gave him a ride there."

"Oh, good!" Ducky let out a relieved breath. "I was a bit worried he might not actually go."

"Where else would he go?" he queried, raising a brow.

"I'm not sure. He did seem rather distraught. I merely wanted to make sure he'd gotten back there safely. He didn't sleep at all last night."

"I'm surprised I _did_," Tim replied. "How about you? Did you get any sleep? I didn't notice if you'd gone home at all..."

"I managed to doze, unintentionally, while Jethro was in for the MRI," he told him.

"Has there been any change?" McGee asked. "Tony told me there was more damage than they originally thought; contusions..."

"No change," Ducky started, but then stopped and narrowed his eyes. "Tony told you this?"

"Yeah...in the car before I dropped him off. Why?"

"I hadn't spoken to him about Jethro's condition. And I expressly told the staff not to discuss it with anyone just yet... That I would be the one to tell you all, if it came to that point." His face slackened for a moment before meeting Tim's eyes again, "Did he, at any point very early this morning, leave the room?"

"I- I'm not sure, Ducky. I fell asleep at some point..."

"Oh dear," Ducky sighed. "No wonder he seemed so devastated."

"What's going on?" McGee grew increasingly concerned.

"Tony must have overheard the conversation the doctor had with me after the MRI," Ducky told him. "It included news that would be difficult to handle, if you'd heard it from that man... Including that I should make phone calls."

"Phone calls?"

"To friends and family," Ducky replied, somberly. "To say their goodbyes."

"What?" Tim blinked rapidly at the news.

"Now, dear boy," Ducky laid a hand on his, "The news was the opinion of the doctor; not one who knows our Jethro Gibbs. He's a fighter and he's come through many things. Though I made those calls, I haven't let go of the belief that he _will_ come through this."

"But Tony didn't have anyone's opinion _but_ that doctor's," Tim reminded him.

From beside them, a familiar voice sounded, out of breath and a bit frightened. "Ducky," Ziva entered the waiting area. They both looked over at her; her hair slightly disheveled, and clothes looking as if she'd just returned from a morning run. Her eyes were red and shining and she seemed upset, as much as they could tell, since the woman barely allowed anything of the sort to show. "I came as soon as I got your message. How is he? Where is he?"

Ducky and Tim had stood and made their way to her by then. Ducky put his hands on her arms, "It's alright, Ziva," he assured her. "I'm sorry if my voice mail frightened you. I'll take you to him, right away." Ziva simply nodded as she made an effort to compose herself.

"I'm gonna go..." McGee spoke up. "Gonna check in on Tony," he told Ducky. Ducky nodded to him before leading Ziva down the hall, and Ziva shot Tim a concerned glance before resigning to continue with Ducky...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Tony had stripped down to boxers and tee shirt and curled up in the many blankets on his bed. He'd taken a few Zolpidem when he'd first gotten in, but they didn't seem to be working. All he wanted to do was sleep. Was that so much to ask?

He was freezing, though he couldn't figure out why. Alcohol was supposed to make you oblivious to the cold. That scared him a little; was it really that cold in the apartment?

He pushed up out of the bed, allowing the covers to fall to the floor, and made his way to the bathroom. He turned the hot water on in the tub, and then the cold, just a bit. Not need to burn himself. Then he made his way out to the kitchen, as the tub filled. His mind wouldn't stop racing, and it was clear that these pills were quite possibly not even working.

Tony shivered as he opened the fridge. Milk...and not expired yet. Jackpot... He poured some into a glass and grabbed the bottle of pills as he headed back to the bathroom. One or two more wouldn't hurt, would it? He might sleep longer, if they put him to sleep at all...

The tub was half-full when he got back to the bathroom. He poured a few of the pills into his palm and tossed them into his mouth, then downed the milk. The cold temperature of the drink sent more shivers down his spine and he curled into himself. He couldn't wait any longer for the tub to fill, and he didn't want to end up drowning if the pills actually started to work and he passed out in there. So he turned off the water and, without even thinking to take off the clothes he currently had on, he climbed into the tub, knocking the open bottle of sleep aids to the floor.

He didn't care. He just wanted to be warm. He just wanted to sleep...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	36. No Hide and Seek

McGee pulled up to Gibbs' house and hurried up to the front door. If Tony had gotten to sleep, he didn't want to wake him. So, he let himself in, quietly.

Once silently closing the door, he made his way to the living room, checking the couch, first. There was evidence he'd _been_ there. It looked like he'd spend some time wrapping presents. And drinking, he noted. A bottle of bourbon with just a quarter of the bottle left, and two glasses; one with just a swallow left in it, and the other, dry.

Tim dismissed this for the moment and started through the house. The bathroom door on the ground floor was open, as was the guest room. Lights were out in the kitchen. He headed upstairs. All the rooms up there were empty as well.

He hurried down the stairs and toward the basement door. "Tony?" he called out before flipping the switch for the light. "Tony, where are you? C'mon, this isn't funny..."

But he wasn't there. He wasn't in the house, nor out back. McGee began to panic. Tony had clearly been drinking, and there was no sign of him. He pulled out his phone and dialed his number. There was no answer. His heart sped up.

He dialed the one person he knew was at NCIS right now...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Director Leon Vance sat sullenly at his desk. He'd spent Christmas morning with his family, but had to come into the office for a few hours, like he did every year, if he wasn't already prone to his desk because of a case going on, to catch up on the week's paperwork that he always got behind on because of the holiday.

Today, however, his mind wandered incessantly from the pile of papers in front of him. Ducky had called that morning, as his youngest was opening a gift, excitedly, under the tree. He was given the heads up that his lead agent in the MCRT was in the hospital. That the doctor's prognosis had been grim; that he needed to make calls, allowing friends and family the opportunity to say their goodbyes, in the case that the doctors were right.

He liked Jethro. Though the man had, at times, been a pain in the ass, he knew how to get a job done. And he'd helped Leon out on several occasions; times Leon could never forget. Yes...Gibbs was more of a friend than he wanted to admit. And here he was, stuck at his desk, when he should be over there paying his respects.

"Hell with this," he muttered and stood from his desk, grabbing his coat and phone before heading out of his office. His cell rang in his hand, then. Hoping it wasn't an agent calling about a case, he answered, "Vance."

_"Sir, I hate to bother you, but I need a favor," _the familiar voice sounded on the other end.

"McGee?" he was confused for a moment, but realized that he was most likely at the hospital. "What is it?"

_"I need someone to go to my computer...uh... I need a trace done."_

"I was about to head out to Bethesda, Tim."

_"Please, Sir. It's important. I mean...it could be very important...and it shouldn't take long."_

"What's goin' on?" he asked as he headed down the stairs and into the bullpen.

_"I dropped DiNozzo at Gibbs' house to sleep; he'd been at the hospital all day and night. I just came to check in on him and he's gone. His car is at NCIS, and everyone else is at Bethesda."_

"You sure he didn't just catch a cab back there?"

_"Sir, I literally just dropped him off here, not even an hour ago. I tried calling him, but there's no answer. He's taking the accident really hard, and I'm worried..."_

"Alright, McGee," Vance had begun the trace while he'd been talking, anyway. "Looks like his last call _was_ to a cab company. Give me a second, and I can figure out where they took him," he said as his fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'll send the address to your phone," he told him after a moment.

_"Thank you so much, Sir. I appreciate it."_

"How's he look, Tim?"

_"Sir?"_

"Gibbs."

_"Oh... Not good," _his voice lowered. _"He's on a ventilator...I'm not sure of the details, but he's..." _his voice drifted off, and Vance seemed to understand how difficult it must be.

"Alright, McGee. Go check on your teammate. Keep me posted."

**11 00 11 00 11**

McGee was racing toward Tony's apartment, now; trying for the tenth time to call his phone. Every ring that wasn't answered, caused his worry to shoot up a notch. It seemed to take forever to get there. But when he finally did, he threw the car into park and bolted up the staircase without bothering to wait for the elevator.

On his way up, he fished out the keys he'd grabbed from the table in Gibbs' foyer that held a spare to Tony's apartment. He let himself in without even bothering to knock. "Tony?" he called out as he entered, glancing briefly to the couch before entering the bedroom. "Tony, are you here?" The bed had been used since he was last here, he could tell.

The light coming from the bathroom drew him toward it. "Tony?" he knocked before pushing the door open. The first thing he saw was the bottle of pills spilled out on the floor. His heart jumped to his throat as he threw the door the rest of the way open. "Tony!" he shouted as he rushed to the tub where his friend lay limp; unmoving.

He pulled Tony from the tub and into his lap, once he fell on his backside to the floor. "Tony, no!" he sobbed as he held his seemingly lifeless friend to his chest. He didn't dare check for a pulse; couldn't bear it yet. "Please..." he tapped Tony's face, "Wake up...wake up, Tony...please..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: yep.. I know. I'm a bastard.**

**Btw, for those of you who aren't already aware, you can find me on facebook and receive an alert on updates even if you're not a member here :) Also, it'd be really cool to hear from you there, too ;)**


	37. NOK

McGee was frozen in fear for a moment... That moment was soon overcome by his sense of responsibility and he fished his phone out to call for an ambulance. He was only comprehending things in spurts. "This is Special Agent Timothy McGee with NCIS! I have an agent down! Requesting an ambulance..." he shouted the address to the dispatcher and explained what he'd discovered.

_"Sir, can you tell us how many he might have taken?"_

"I have...I have no idea!" he told the woman on the line as he looked around the floor, still clinging to Tony. "They're all over the floor...I don't know how many he took..." She was speaking to him, but he couldn't hear her anymore. "I have to go... I have to do something...Have to help him," he ended the call and carried Tony to the bedroom. He laid him on the floor and, with a shaky hand, checked for a pulse.

When he found it, though very weak, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He stood and went to the dresser to retrieve a pair of sweats and a tee shirt, then went back to Tony. He stripped the soaked clothes from his friend and redressed him in the dry items. Not knowing what else to do, he checked his pulse again. It seemed, somehow, weaker.

"Tony...please don't do this to me," his eyes welled up as he bent down and put his ear over Tony's mouth. He was barely breathing. "Come on, Tony!" he practically screamed as tears dripped from his eyes, and he slapped him, hard across the face. But no reaction came. "Oh god...god, I'm sorry, Tony..." he picked him up again and held him as he sat there, waiting for the medics to arrive...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Abby and Jackson sat in the waiting area; Jack with a large coffee and Abby with a Caf-Pow. They were giving Ziva some time with Gibbs as Ducky explained what all had happened.

The E.R ambulance bay lit up; its red and white lights blinking through the doors and painting the walls inside. Moments later, several EMTs wheeled a gurney in through the double doors and down the hall. They could only see that they were working with a CPR bag over the patients face as they continued, meeting up with doctors. They shouted things to each other as they continued through other doors, disappearing from the haphazard glances of Abby and Jackson.

Their attention was pulled by the second opening of the ambulance bay doors. Through them came McGee, pale as a ghost, with his arms wrapped around his middle and a shaky demeanor as he stared blankly at the floor ahead of him.

"McGee?" Abby stood and started toward him as Tim paused in place and turned his body to face her. But he didn't look up at her. "Tim, what's wrong?" she asked as she approached him. She reached a hand out to take his arm, and was shocked to realize he was shaking and cold to the touch. "McGee, what happened?" she took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. Tears shone in his eyes. It broke her heart. "Oh, Timmy... Come, sit," she pulled him to the chair she'd previously occupied, and helped him to sit.

"What happened, Tim?" Jackson sat beside him. But McGee found it nearly impossible to begin.

Abby suddenly had a realization as she looked down the hall toward the double doors. "McGee, did you just ride here in that ambulance?" she looked at him again. He curled into himself and began to shake even more. "Oh god, Tim...who-who did they bring in just now? What happened?"

"Ma'am, I need to check him out," one of the medics that had brought the patient in was suddenly beside them. "I believe he's in shock."

"What happened?" Abby asked.

"I'm sorry, but I can't divulge that information at this time."

"Like hell you can't!" she pushed up to stand. "McGee is one of my best friends in the world! You need to tell me what happened to him!"

"Abs, please," McGee whimpered from his seat, and Abby immediately sank to her seat again. "I can't...can't say..."

"Tim?"

"Ma'am, please let me help him," the medic requested. She nodded, a bit dumbfounded. He moved to McGee and assisted him in standing. "Do you know the guy we brought in?" he asked her.

"What? Uh..." she blinked, "What was his name?"

"A uh...DiNozzo, I believe," he told her.

She paled. "Oh god...what happened to him?" tears filled her eyes.

"I'm not at liberty to say, ma'am. But we're trying to reach his next of kin-"

"His next of kin is here," she told him, "In ICU, unconscious." She moved to help him to walk McGee to an exam room.

"Any immediate family nearby?"

"None," she said. "But we work with him. We're his family," she told him. "His physician is here in the hospital, right now!" she exclaimed once it dawned on her. "Ducky...uh...Dr. Donald Mallard. He's in with another patient, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I can go get him..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	38. Defense

Ziva quickly made her way down the hall to the room Abby told her McGee was currently in. When the forensic goth had come to Gibbs' room to find Ducky and mentioned something about Tony being brought in to the ER, they were gone too quickly for Ziva to have asked what had happened. So she needed answers from the one person who'd know.

The door is open, and she could see him before she entered the room. He was hunched over in a chair; his head in his hands. He was very still. But as she approached, she could tell that he was shaking. Why he'd been left alone, she was unsure.

"McGee?" she crouched down in front of him, concerned now not only for Tony.

"Ziva?" his voice cracked as he picked his head up and met her eyes. His were red-rimmed and glassy; tears streaking his paled cheeks. "I...I thought you were in California?" he sniffed.

She shook her head and gave him a small smile, "I stayed. I was going to spend Christmas with my family, here. With all of you," her eyes shifted for a moment. "Then I received a call about Gibbs...and now there is something wrong with Tony... I stayed here because I didn't want him to be alone," she met his eyes again. His suddenly refilled with anguish. "McGee, tell me what happened," she put a hand on his cheek and tried to swipe away some of the tears with her thumb.

"I don't know," he let out a choked sob and then tried his best to compose himself. "I...I was worried about him. What happened to Gibbs, really messed him up, ya know? I mean, it's understandable. But apparently Tony overheard a conversation Ducky was having with one of Gibbs' doctors, who seemed to have a very pessimistic opinion about his recovery. I think...I think Tony believes that Gibbs, for certain, isn't gonna wake up. He thinks he's already lost him."

"I do not understand," she shook her head.

"I took him to Gibbs' house so he could get some sleep," he continued. "From the time I dropped him off, I felt like something was really wrong. I needed to check on him. By the time I got back to Gibbs' place, Tony was gone."

"Gone?"

"He'd been drinking," he explained. "Nearly an entire bottle of bourbon was gone. And he called a cab to take him to his apartment."

"I thought he did not want to go back there?"

"Apparently, there was something there that he needed," fresh tears fell, and his voice was pinched. "By the time I got there..." he shrugged out of her grasp and hid his face in his hands again.

"McGee, what is it?" she insisted. "What did you see?"

"There were sleeping pills," he said, barely audible. Ziva's breath quickened against the pounding of her heart. Tim looked back up at her. "I don't know how many he took. There were a lot on the floor. But when I found him, he was barely breathing..."

Ziva wasn't sure how to process this news. Her eyes darted back and forth between Tim's. "What?" came out as a whisper.

"I don't know what to think, Ziva?" he shook his head. "I don't know what to think about _any_ of it. Tony wouldn't do that...he wouldn't. Not like that. He wouldn't try and kill himself...would he?"

Ziva shook her head, instinctively. "I do not know. I don't think so..."

"He wanted to sleep," he told her. "He was so tired, and with everything that's happened... God I shouldn't have left him by himself; he was a mess. He wasn't thinking straight. He was exhausted; that's all...He just wanted to sleep. He couldn't have meant for this to happen. We can't let them think that. We have to do something, Ziva."

"We will first make sure that he is alright," she told him, then found herself leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him in an embrace. Perhaps it was because he was so distraught over what he'd seen; how he'd discovered their friend. Maybe, though, it was because he was so willing to defend his honor, no matter what.

He accepted the embrace and found himself clinging to her.

"Then, we will go and investigate the scene; discover what might have happened," she finished. And she felt him nod.

"Thank you," he said in a whisper.

**11 00 11 00 11**

"Anthony is stable," Ducky told Abby and Jackson. "As far as what happened, Timothy has asked that the information be kept confidential until he and Ziva can conduct a proper investigation into the matter."

"Investigation?" Jackson furrowed a brow. "Was he attacked?"

Ducky shook his head, "No. I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that."

"Well, what part of him is hurt, Ducky?" Abby asked. "Can we see him?"

"Now, Abigail, this isn't a game of twenty questions. I can't reveal what's wrong without giving reason for stipulations into the matter. I suggest we wait until the remaining agents on Jethro's team find...whatever it is they need to find."

"Concerning what, Dr. Mallard?" Vance's voice sounded from the doorway to Gibbs' room.

The three of them looked over at him. "Director," Ducky greeted... _Oh my..._

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	39. Waking

How to get around this obstacle, Ducky wasn't sure. Vance wasn't even aware that Tony was in the hospital, let alone why.

But it seemed as though Gibbs sensed the tension in the room and decided to, once again, save Tony from something no one was even certain he needed saving from.

The alarm blared from beside the bed and everyone in the room looked over to the bed. Gibbs was awake, fighting the ventilator, and not quite clearly focusing on anything in particular...

Vance startled and said something about getting a doctor before scrambling out of the room. Ducky and Jackson took up either side of the bed trying to calm him; reassuring him that it was alright and not to fight the ventilator. Abby stood a bit shocked at the foot of the bed, wondering if she should even be in there.

Soon, though, they were all moving out of the way so that the doctor could tend to Gibbs. Things were being said, back and forth between the doctor and nurses. But Ducky was preoccupied with the fact that Vance was going to want an answer to a question he wasn't willing to divulge information about. Luckily, the director had chosen to stay outside the room.

After several minutes, the doctor was finished asking Gibbs questions. Ducky caught the last bit of conversation.

"I'm frankly quite amazed at your sudden recovery," the doctor told Gibbs. "I'm going to schedule another MRI to see what's changed. But you seem to be okay; memory is intact; no outward signs of trouble. Like I said, I'm amazed."

"Well, he is a Gibbs," Jackson said as he approached the other side of the bed, now that the nurses had cleared out.

The doctor gave a small smile and nodded, "I'll be sure to have a nurse come back to let you know when to expect to be taken back to radiology," he told Gibbs.

"Thank you, Doctor," Ducky told him before taking his place on the other side of the bed once the doctor stepped away to leave. "Jethro, you gave us all quite a scare," he patted his friend's hand. "But what a lovely Christmas gift to have you awake again."

"What happened to DiNozzo?" he asked; eyes boring into Ducky's.

Ducky narrowed his eyes, "What ever would make you think-"

"I heard you...heard ya talkin' about him," he said. "I didn't imagine it, Duck. I heard all three of you," he glanced to Abby, then to Jackson, and back to Ducky. "What won't you tell them? And don't tell me you can't tell _me_; I'm his next of kin on his emergency contacts."

Ducky stood tall and took a breath, a bit perturbed by Gibbs' stubbornness. He was right, of course, but he didn't want to have to tell him just yet. The M.E looked at the other two. "Would you both mind giving us a few minutes?" he requested. "Perhaps you can look in on Timothy; maybe take Director Vance with you and fill him in on Jethro's current condition."

"Alright, Ducky," Jackson sighed, then looked to his son. "We'll be back in a few minutes. Want us to bring you anything?"

"I could ask the doc if you can have coffee," Abby offered. Her voice was low and lacking her usual energy.

"Sounds great, Abs," Gibbs told her. "Seems like you could use some yourself. Or maybe a Caf Pow." She gave him a small smile and nodded before turning to follow Jackson out of the room. Ducky closed the door after them. "She seems upset," Gibbs mentioned.

"She has right to be," Ducky told him. "She's quite worried. It's been a roller-coaster these last couple of days."  
"How long was out for, exactly?" he furrowed his brow.

"You coded this morning," Ducky explained. "And as I'm sure the doctor mentioned just now, they found contusions and suspected worsened damage to your brain stem. He didn't think you'd ever wake up. Told me to make calls so that people could say their goodbyes," his words seemed bitter.

"That why Vance is here?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes. I called him, though I didn't believe for a moment that that doctor was right."

"It had to have been a possibility, Duck, for him to have said it at all."

"Yes, well...he doesn't know Leroy Jethro Gibbs very well, at all," he squeezed Gibbs' hand and gave him a smile. "Which leads us to Anthony..." he sighed.

"What is it, Duck?" Gibbs' concern grew every moment Ducky stalled.

"He was in here when you coded," he began. "Didn't sleep a wink the whole night they had you in for the MRI and surgery. And once young Timothy dozed off, Tony took it upon himself to wander out into the hospital, where he happened upon our conversation. He heard what the doctor's grim prognosis was. And he took that information to heart; perhaps a bit more harshly than I'd originally imagined," his eyes conveyed regret and sorrow.

"What're ya tellin' me?" Gibbs asked.

"I sent him home, to your house, to get some sleep. I should have gone with him. But at the time, I was worried more for you. Tim took him. We promised to let him know the moment you woke. But in his mind, that wasn't going to happen, Jethro. In his mind, according to what he'd heard, there was very little hope you'd ever wake up again."

"McGee left him there alone?" he narrowed his eyes.

"We weren't aware he'd heard the conversation, Jethro," he defended. "Not until Tim told me something Tony had said in the car. Once we realized, he went straight back to check in on him. Only...he wasn't there..." he met his eyes with saddened ones. "Tim discovered a nearly empty bottle of bourbon in the living room. Then discovered that he'd caught a taxi back to his apartment." Gibbs' eyes flashed at that. "I'm not sure you're ready to hear this part, Jethro."

"The hell I'm not, Ducky," he retorted. "You can tell me, or I'll get it out of the doctor."

Ducky took a breath and decidedly sat down on the edge of the bed. "Timothy found him in his bathtub, unconscious, and barely breathing," he told him in a low voice. Gibbs' heart sunk in his chest. "There was a bottle of pills spilled out on the floor beside him."

Gibbs shook his head almost imperceptibly, "Duck...you're not tellin' me he..."

"I'm not sure, Jethro," he replied, sadly. "But it does seem to be the case. He was barely holding himself together when I saw him before he left the hospital, earlier. He thought we were going to lose you. And after just losing his father..."

"No, Ducky," he shook his head again, his eyes glistening from the news. "Tell me he's okay."

"He's stable, as I told the others. But he's not regained consciousness yet. They've given him medication to counteract the sleeping pills he took. But only time will tell what damage may have already been done."

"I need to see him," Gibbs insisted.

"You can't be serious," Ducky stood from the bed. "You've just had surgical procedures done to you brain, Jethro."

"Godamnit, Duck, I need to see him," his voice cracked. "There's gotta be a way..."

Their attention was pulled to the door when they heard it open. "Boss?" McGee's head poked into the room before letting himself all the way in. "Abby told us you were awake," he approached the bed and Gibbs could see the younger agent had been through the ringer.

"Close the door," Ducky told Ziva as she entered.

"McGee, you found him," Gibbs' eyes twitched as he tried to compose himself. "If you hadn't gone back for him, God only knows..."

"We're going back," Tim interrupted.

"What?"

"Ziva and I," he continued. "We're going to his apartment. Boss, I can't believe for a second that he'd do this," he told him. "And I'm gonna prove it..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Little longer of a chapter...and I'm gonna go with, it's because it took so long to finish ;) hehe**

**PS...screw proof-reading atm...seriously, you can figure it out. lol**


	40. Something White

Gibbs was proud of his agents, in that moment. Whether they were right or wrong, they hadn't come to any conclusions that they weren't ready and willing to prove. He gave them an approving nod and they headed out.

"What shall I tell the director?" Ducky asked, quietly.

"You let me handle it," he told him. "In the meantime, get my dad and Abby outta here. Make 'em eat somethin' and get some proper sleep. That goes for you, too, Duck. How long have you been here? You look like you haven't slept at all either."

"Well, I did catch a little sleep very early on this morning," he told him. "Though it is quite difficult when one of your dearest friends lay in surgery with a grim diagnosis from a good neurologist and surgeon."

"Jethro?" Vance poked his head inside the door.

Ducky glanced to him, then back to Gibbs, "Well, I suppose I'll attend to those matters, then. I'll be back in a few hours. Hopefully we'll have some good news by then."

Gibbs nodded to Ducky before the older man left, and Vance came into the room to stand beside Gibbs' bed. "I was surprised to get a call from Dr. Mallard this morning," Vance told him. "I was more surprised by what he had to say. I'm glad the doctors were wrong, Jethro. Would've been a pain in the ass tryin' to find a replacement," he said with a small smile.

"DiNozzo could've replaced me, Leon," he cocked his head.

"Speakin' of," Vance began, "What's goin' on with him? I'm sure Ducky filled you in..."

"Adverse drug reaction," Gibbs told him. "He was given a prescription for sleep aids, and I'm doubting he used them before today. Ducky ordered him home to sleep after what happened with me. McGee went to check on him and found him unconscious and unresponsive."

"So what is it they're going to investigate?" Vance narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not sure," he fibbed. "But I'm guessing it has something to do with making sure there wasn't any foul play involved."

"They think someone might've switched out medications?"

"It's possible. Crazier things have happened; especially to DiNozzo."

"You don't think they're bein' a bit paranoid?"

"Might be," Gibbs replied. "But honestly, having everyone hangin' over my bedside, worrying about me... well, I think this'll be a nice distraction. Keep their minds busy with something else."

"It's their vacation, Gibbs. I thought Ziva was flying out to California, for starters. Didn't expect many of them to be in town at all."

"They stayed for Tony," Gibbs' voice softened. "Didn't know Ziva and Tim were gonna be here, but clearly I underestimated them."

"I heard about Tony's father. I think it's admirable, what you were planning to do for him. I had the pleasure of speaking with your dad out in the hall for a bit. I'm just real sorry it backfired."

"Yeah," Gibbs sighed. "Me too."

"Guess I should plan on bringin' in a couple of agents to work with the remainder of your team until the two of you are up and around," Vance said. "Any preferences?"

"I think you should let _them_ decide on that," Gibbs replied. "They need agents who will watch their six. I don't want them out in the field with anything less."

"Last thing we need is the rest of your team endin' up here, too," Leon smirked. "Get some rest, Jethro. And call if you or DiNozzo need anything."

**11 00 11 00 11**

Gibbs waited until after his MRI was scheduled, to try and sneak out of his room. He got about as far as he side of his bed before realizing that it would be fairly impossible. Aside from the obvious reasons of being hooked up to machinery, as soon as he'd scooted off of the bed, his head was spinning and he was quickly losing focus and equilibrium.

"Whoa there, Agent Gibbs!" Jimmy Palmer was suddenly at his side, holding him up from falling.

"Palmer?" Gibbs weakly replied, slightly confused. "What're you doin' here?"

"Dr. Mallard sent me," he told him. "He said he didn't wanna leave you here without anyone making sure you didn't try to take off. Looks like that was a good call," he smirked.

"Not tryin' to take off," he scowled as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Need to see DiNozzo."

"I highly doubt you're supposed to be out of bed, let alone roaming the halls," he replied.

Once Gibbs regained his balance and focus, he met Jimmy's eyes. Although the kid had sounded fairly confident in enforcing Ducky's wishes, his appearance suggested that he was worried and possibly a bit afraid. "Don't you have someplace better to be?" Gibbs asked. "It's Christmas."

"Well, I was at my mom's. But the festivities have been over for a while. It's mostly just a bunch of people sitting around talking over coffee. No biggie. I'm glad to be here. I'd only just heard about everything that's happened..."

"So you know DiNozzo is in this hospital, too?" Gibbs confirmed. Jimmy nodded, nervously. "Have you seen him?" A moment passed before Jimmy nodded again. "Think you can take me to his room? Keep a look out while I check in on him, myself?"

Jimmy stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, frozen as to how to proceed.

"MRI is scheduled for thirty minutes from now," Gibbs argued. "I won't be able to stay in his room for long."

"Dr. Mallard would kill me."

"Ducky wanted you here to make sure I didn't take off... I'm not takin' off, Jimmy. Just goin' up the hall," he added a soft smile. That, in combination with the use of his first name, won him over.

Palmer sighed, resignedly, "I'll get a wheelchair. Do _not_ move...I'll be right back."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: If you would, please...let me know which of you are nearby the east coast (US)-I'll elaborate when I hear from you ;)**


	41. Permission Denied

Jimmy managed to get Gibbs to Tony's room with ease. Apparently, his innocent face and smile seemed to work the staff. When wheeling him up to Tony's bedside, Palmer couldn't help the sinking feeling upon seeing the senior field agent for the first time since he'd been there.

Before he could dwell too much on the feeling, Gibbs' voice broke through, "Go keep watch for me, Jimmy," he told him in a soft voice.

Jimmy nodded, nervously and turned on his heel, chancing another glance at Tony before exiting and closing the door behind him.

Gibbs' heart sank in his chest upon seeing Tony. He was surprised he was able to instruct the M.E's young assistant to go guard the door. Tony was on a ventilator. For some reason, Gibbs hadn't been expecting that. But it made sense; with the man's already compromised lungs, the drugs that were in his system probably had little trouble getting them to nearly shut down.

Thought he oftentimes demanded it, Gibbs was always a bit wary of Tony's silence. It was usually a red flag that something was up, and sometimes an indication that something was horribly wrong. Right now, Gibbs knew exactly what caused his agent's silence. But why, was another question.

The dark circles under Tony's eyes, accentuated by their current sunken state, made him seem all the more ill; though it was most likely a combination of the drugs and alcohol, and his lack of sleep. The lead agent couldn't help but to run the possibility through his head that his two investigating agents were just running on wishful thinking.

The fact was, Tony could very well have done this purposefully. And that scared Gibbs more than he was willing to accept or admit; more than he'd been afraid of anything in a very long time...

Gibbs locked the wheels on his chair and cautiously pulled himself up to stand, appraising his agent; watching and listening to the mechanical rise and fall of Tony's chest. The younger man looked resigned to his current state; accepting, even. It was unacceptable.

Gibbs put a gentle hand on Tony's forehead, and found himself clinging to Tony's hand with his other and he tried his damnedest to hold himself together. He bent down to Tony's ear and spoke. "Tony...you listen to me," he began; loud enough for the younger agent to hear, but not so loud that anyone outside could. "I know you need the rest, but once you've got it, I need you to wake up. I need you out here. Need you to do what you do best," he breathed, "And that's holding this team together," his voice cracked. "And havin' my six. Just like your team has yours right now."

His hand began absentmindedly petting through Tony's hair at the top of his head as he continued to speak. "I don't know what happened; either way, I owe you a head-slap of the century... As long as I can give it," he sniffed as silently as he could manage. "And I do _not_ give you permission to leave... You hear me?" he saw the slightest twitch of Tony's brow and his heart sped up a beat. "I love ya, kid," he let out with a short breath that caught, then pressed a kiss to the younger man's forehead, letting it linger there for as long as he needed to recompose himself.

"Agent Gibbs?" came Jimmy's whispered, but urgent voice from the door. "We have to go; there are nurses heading this way..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

"There are no other bottles of medication in the house," Ziva reported to McGee, who was still kneeling on the bathroom floor. "Aside from some over-the-counter pain relief. And they all seem fairly untouched."

"I think I've found all the pills I'm gonna find," Tim told her. "There were twenty-two; most of them dissolved by the water from the tub from when I pulled him out. But they were intact enough to count. This bottle is for thirty, and it's dated from three months ago," he looked back at her. "So it looks like he might have tried them on a few occasions... or..."

"Or he took eight, this morning," she finished for him

"It's possible, but even Tony knows that's not a lethal dose...I'm sure," he said as he pushed himself up to stand.

"Mixed with the bottle of bourbon?" she raised a brow.

"Even then," he defended. "If he'd wanted to die, he would've taken this whole bottle."

"Perhaps they spilled before he had the chance," Ziva retorted.

"Or he knocked them over because he was drowsy...and drunk!" he argued. "Why are you doing this?" he questioned her motives.

"I am simply providing you with the questions we will be asked of us," she told him. "We are his friends, and we are investigating this as such. Our evidence cannot be hearsay or opinion. We need proof and plausibility."

"There isn't any proof until he wakes up and tells us," he shot back. Then he swallowed, nervously, and looked away to the counter top. "If he wakes up." He sank down on the closed lid of the toilet with an exasperated sigh, and stared into the bathtub across from it. "I thought he was dead," he said in barely a whisper; his eyes not moving from that spot in the tub.

Ziva's brow furrowed as she moved to sit on the edge of the tub across from him, "What?"

"When I found him," he told her. "When I pulled him out of the water... I thought he was dead. I thought I was too late, and I couldn't even bring myself to check for a pulse." Ziva put a supportive hand on his knee, and he met her eyes. "You don't...think...with everything that's happened-"

"No," she interjected. "I do not believe he was trying to end his life. He would not give up on Gibbs like that. He would not give up on _us_."

McGee absorbed her words, and they comforted him possibly more than she had even meant for them to. He took a cleansing breath and returned the small smile she was now giving him...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: So I've been exceedingly tired today. Not sure why. But I hope just one update sustains you until tomorrow! Thanks :)**


	42. Minor Setback

Jimmy managed to get Gibbs back to his room unseen. He pushed the chair to the bed and turned to close the door.

"I appreciate you doin' that for me, Palmer," Gibbs said.

"No problem, Agent Gibbs," he replied as he headed back toward the bed. "If we'd gotten caught, then I probably would've freaked. But I understand you wanting to see Agent DiNozzo for yourself. You should probably get back in bed, before they come get you for the MRI."

"Been tryin' since you put me here," he replied, a bit wearily.

Jimmy furrowed his brow, "Do you need me to help?"

Gibbs swallowed down a bit of fear before looking up at the young man who was standing beside him now. "Can barely move my legs," he told him...

**11 00 11 00 11**

Three hours later...

Jimmy chewed his thumbnail as he sat beside Tony's bed in the hospital room. He'd debated calling anyone from the team. He knew they needed their sleep, and that their presence wouldn't really do anything more than help _him_.

He was afraid for Gibbs; the sudden inability to use his legs was unexpected, even by the doctors who came in afterward. He'd apologized profusely for having allowed Gibbs to talk him into helping him into the chair. But they doubted it had anything to do with the predicament. Jimmy wasn't so sure.

"Jimmy?" McGee's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up to see him and Ziva as they quietly entered the room.

"Hey, guys. What're you doin' here? Shouldn't you be home sleeping?"

"Is that where everyone is?" Tim asked.

"We stopped by Gibbs' room," Ziva said as she approached Tony's bedside. "He is not there."

"He's been getting an MRI. They shouldn't be much longer," Jimmy explained.

"Any change?" Ziva asked as she laid a hesitant hand on Tony's arm.

"Nothing yet," Jimmy told her, sadly. "But they said he just needs to sleep while a majority of it works through his system. They treated him with the benzodiazepine receptor antagonist flumazenil, which displaces zolpidem from its binding site and rapidly reverses its effects."

"Rapidly?" McGee questioned. "It's been hours..."

"Well, with the amount of alcohol he consumed in addition to the pills...and his already compromised lungs...the main factor they're concerned about are his O2 levels. His respiratory system just needs to recuperate a bit. It's probably best that he's still sleeping. More comfortable for him, anyway. My great-uncle Harry woke up with the ventilator and nearly killed himself trying to rip it out. They had to sedate him! Imagine waiting for someone to wake up for weeks, and when they finally do, you have to put them right back under again..." He glanced up at the two agents who were now looking at him a bit strangely. "What?" he asked, thinking maybe there was something on his face.

"Anyone ever tell you you're sounding more like Ducky every day?" McGee asked.

"Yeah?" he smiled. Tim shared a glance with Ziva.

"Mr. Palmer?" a voice came from the doorway and they all looked over at the nurse standing there. "Agent Gibbs was just brought to his room. You asked us to let you know..."

"Thanks," he told her. She smiled and turned to leave. Jimmy looked at McGee, "Dr. Mallard wants me to stay with him whenever I can, until he gets back. But honestly...I feel really bad."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well, I-I kinda find it a bit hard to...to say no to the man," he grimaced. "And he asked me to help him sneak over here to see Tony, which I completely understand. But by the time I got him back to his own room again, he uh..." Jimmy looked down to the floor.

"He what?" Ziva inquired.

He looked up again, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "He...lost movement...in his legs," he told them, remorsefully. Tim's eyes widened, as did Ziva's. "The doctors said it didn't have anything to do with him being in the chair, but I...kinda have a feeling they're wrong. He was standing beside Tony's bed. The effort, alone, could've risen his blood pressure enough to force a clot they might have missed to travel to some part of his brain...who knows? There're so many possibilities..."

"Whatever is was," Tim said, "I'm sure it wasn't your fault. When Gibbs wants something, he makes sure to get it, one way or another."

"Just the same, though, would you mind coming with me? I wanna see what they found; see if it's necessary to call Dr. Mallard back..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Sorry, guys! I know it seems like I'm not doing much of anything...after I've spoiled you several days in a row with multiple updates...lol. I've been busy and also exhausted. **

**To answer some of the non-member reviews: No, it won't be over very soon. I'm thinking at least 4 or 5 more chapters? No idea...**


	43. Things We Can't Know Yet

Ziva stayed in Tony's room as McGee and Palmer headed to Gibbs'. They weren't sure if he'd be awake or not, but both of them needed to know what was going on; even if it was for different reasons.

When they quietly entered the room, Gibbs turned his head to acknowledge them.

"Hey, Boss," Tim gave a small smile and headed to the side of the bed. "How'd everything go?"

"Not too sure, McGee," he replied, a bit more softly than normal. "Kinda zoned out as the doc was talkin' to me."

"Mind if I..." Jimmy motioned to the charts at the foot of the bed.

Gibbs shrugged and looked back to Tim, "What'd ya find?"

For a moment, he didn't know what he was referring to. "Oh...uh... The max amount of pills Tony could've taken was eight," he began. "There's a greater possibility that he took less; the bottle was filled months ago. Chances are that he took one or two to try, and never got around to taking them regularly."

"Meaning..."

"Meaning, he didn't take enough to..." he didn't need to finish the sentence. "He would've known to take more; the entire bottle, if that was his intent. And I'm sure that, if that had been his intent, he would've made sure to do it right." He swallowed, "I...I'm sorry; I didn't mean for that to sound-"

"I know, Tim," Gibbs reached out and squeezed his arm, reassuringly. "Ya did good. Followed your gut on both occasions. If you hadn't gone back when you did...I don't know what would've happened." He watched the younger agent look down at the floor. "I know it must've been hard, finding him like that." Tim looked up and met his eyes, a bit shocked at the understanding in his boss's eyes. "Regardless what happened, you saved his life. And for that, I can't thank you enough."

McGee took a breath and straightened. "Thanks, Boss," he told him in a low voice. Not knowing what else to say, he glanced to Palmer. "Does it say anything?"

Jimmy looked up at McGee, glancing back and forth between both men for a moment before looking back down at the chart. "There's increased swelling," he began. "They think that's what's causing the difficulty walking. It shouldn't get any worse, but it may be a while before the swelling goes down."

"At which point, he should be back to normal, right?" Tim verified.

"Yes. Well...theoretically, yes."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" Gibbs asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well," he swallowed, "The brain is very complicated. Swelling can cause permanent damage; they can't guarantee that there isn't any permanent damage until the swelling goes down. Until then, it's a waiting game." McGee's eyes darted all over the place somewhere in the air between himself and Jimmy. Palmer didn't miss the panic in the agent's eyes. "B-but...seeing as th-this is...a uh...a new symptom, chances are that...it's most likely temporary."

Seemingly shoving the information aside, Gibbs changed the subject, "How's DiNozzo?"

Tim shook his head to clear his thoughts and answer his boss's question, "No change. He's still sleeping."

"Is that normal?"

"Jimmy says, with the mixture of alcohol, it's isn't surprising."

"And when he wakes up? What should we expect?" Gibbs asked.

Both agents looked to Jimmy. Though he wasn't completely confident to respond, he gave it his best effort. "As with the swelling in your brain, Agent Gibbs, we won't know, exactly, until he wakes up." He looked away for a moment, and in a low voice, added, "_If_ he wakes up..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: So sorry, guys! I wasn't even up to writing this much...but forced myself through it. I really do want to write; don't get me wrong. I've just been finding it nearly impossible to stay focused. And headaches...ugh. I'll do my best to continue and have some more up tomorrow. Thanks for your patience and support:)**


	44. Short List

"The hell he won't!" Gibbs replied, sternly, to the M.E's assistant's words.

"Agent Gibbs...I- I didn't m-mean to imply that..."

"McGee!" Ziva came bursting into the room and was suddenly aware that she might seem a bit overly-anxious, and composed herself as best as she could manage. Glancing at Gibbs for a moment before looking back at Tim, she tried calmly to say, "They have removed the ventilator. He was awake...for maybe a few moments short of a minute; but enough for them to realize he could be taken off of the machine."

"He woke up?" Palmer asked with a relieved smile.

"For a moment, as I said," she replied. "But he seemed unaware of his surroundings; groggy... He is sleeping now, but off of the ventilator. This is a good sign, yes?" she asked, seeking each of their faces.

"What do you mean, that he was unaware?" Palmer asked. "Did the doctors say anything about his pupils being reactive?"

"I am uncertain. I was not paying much attention to what they were saying," she admitted.

"One of you should be in there with him, in case he wakes up again," Gibbs said. "Palmer, find his doctor; tell him I want an update on DiNozzo."

Jimmy nodded and left the room. McGee turned to Gibbs, "I'll go sit with him. If that's okay with you, Boss..."

"You been home at all since yesterday, McGee?" Gibbs asked, compassionately.

"I went home to shower and change, after Ziva and I went to Tony's place," he told him.

"But have you slept?"

"I slept last night, Boss. I'm fine, really." Gibbs didn't seem convinced. "I can sleep in Tony's room if I need to."

Gibbs detected the pleading in the younger agent's eyes. He nodded to him, and watched Tim turn and walk out of the room.

Ziva approached the side of the bed and laid her hands on his arm. "Are you alright? The MRI...?" she gave him a small, warm smile.

"I'll live," he told her, reassuring her with a small smile of his own, and brought his other hand over to cover hers. "Be even better when I know Tony's gonna be okay."

**11 00 11 00 11**

The first thing Tony was aware of, was the throbbing pain in his skull. The last thing he recalled, was stumbling into the bathtub...

"Oh shit..." he jolted awake and rolled, nearly falling off of a bed he didn't even know he was in.

The commotion pulled McGee from his sleep in the chair beside the bed, and he shot up to stop Tony from falling, "Whoa! Tony, calm down!" he tried to hold the agent as he flailed about in the confusion.

Tony's eyes scanned the room before landing on Tim, "McGee? What...what the hell? How the hell did I get here?" he glanced out the window at the dark sky.

"You don't remember?" Tim asked, slowly letting go of Tony's arms as the older agent stilled. He looked at Tim in confusion, "Remember what?" he asked in a low voice. _Did something happen to Gibbs? Something I blocked out?... _

"What's the last thing-"

"Drinking Gibbs' bourbon," Tony supplied before McGee could even finish the question. "Takin' a cab to my place, and takin' some...pills to sleep..." his eyes darted around a bit. "I might've...taken more than I should have, now that I'm sober enough to think straight..."

"I need to know," Tim's eyes were glassy, Tony could see, even in the dim light of the room. "I need to know that you didn't do that on purpose, Tony..."

"What?"

"You heard the doctor talking to Ducky; I get it. You were upset; thought Gibbs wouldn't wake up again."

"You think I tried to..."

"No!" Tim shook his head, incredulously. "I don't think that! But I need to hear it from _you_! 'Cause when I walked in there and found you like that...I thought you were..."

"You found me?" Tony's eyes began to sting.

McGee nodded, "I thought you were dead," his voice cracked. "I didn't know what to do... Between you and Gibbs...I..."

"Tim, I'm so sorry," Tony's voice was a whisper now; tears threatening to spill over. "I didn't mean for that to happen...it was selfish and stupid... I just wanted to sleep. Nothing was working...and I kept taking more...I wasn't even thinking..."

"You're right; you weren't," Tim retorted, and Tony met his eyes, flinching. "But either was I. I should've stayed with you. I should've seen there was something wrong."

"There's no way you could've known that, Tim..."

"You could've _died_, Tony," his voice cracked again, and the tears spilled over, down his cheeks; disappearing as they trailed below his jaw. "If I hadn't spoken to Ducky when I got back here, I wouldn't have followed my gut to back and check to make sure you were okay, and you'd be _dead_ right now, and that'd be on _me!_"

Tony was up off of the bed now, standing on shaky legs once he'd seen the tears falls. He pulled McGee into a hug, squeezing him tightly with all the strength he was able to conjure. "No, Tim...no, it wouldn't have. It was my fault; no one else's. Don't you ever think that. I'm so sorry, McGee..."

"I'm not mad..." he breathed, accepting the embrace. "I was...scared as hell. I thought we were gonna lose both of you..."

Tony gently pulled away and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed as he absorbed the words Tim had just told him. "What are you telling me?" his voice was laced with pain.

Tim realized that Tony took that to mean that something had happened to their boss, since he'd been out of commission. McGee shook his head, "Gibbs is fine, Tony. He woke up some time after you were admitted."

"He's fine?" Tony seemed relieved.

"Supposedly," he told him. "There's some swelling that's making it difficult for him to walk, but they're saying that should change once it goes down. Other than that, he's just been worried about _you_."

"He doesn't think that I..." he didn't need to finish the question.

"Ziva and I went to your apartment to prove that it wasn't intentional," Tim told him. "Mostly for the sake of your job, if it ever got out, why you were in here. No one wanted to think it was purposeful, Tony, but I didn't want there to be any room for doubt-"

He was cut off by another unexpected hug from Tony. "You didn't have to do that," he said, in almost a whisper. "Thank you...I love ya, McGee..."

Tim furrowed his brow, "You're not still drunk, are you?" he asked, half-jokingly.

"If you mention this in the future, then yes... But no...I'm not. You're the best friend I've ever had, Tim..."

McGee wasn't sure how to reply. "Wasn't anything you wouldn't have done for me, Tony..." And that was completely true. But for Tony, there was a very short list of people who'd ever done something in reciprocation. Tim was one of them. Another was in a room not far from his. And the rest were probably gathered at his beside...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**

**A/N: Longer chapter to make up for the short ones- hope you enjoyed!**


	45. More Than a Hangover

Gibbs was going out of his mind with boredom. He hated hospitals. Hated that he had to stay here for 'observation'. But most of all, he hated that he couldn't check in on Tony.

Abby and Ziva had said their goodbyes about an hour ago, and Ducky was taking Jackson back to the house, after Gibbs insisted he not spend the night in one of the uncomfortable chairs that were set up beside his bed. Ducky, of course, would end up coming back. He was as easily persuaded as the rest of them.

Gibbs almost wished Palmer were still around so that he could get some help into a chair and make another expedition down the hall...

"Boss?"

Gibbs turned his head toward the door at the sound of Tim's voice. "You still here, McGee?"

"Wanted to make sure you were awake," he said as he pushed the door the rest of the way open. Gibbs narrowed his eyes in question, then watched as the younger agent pushed a wheelchair into the room; containing his senior field agent, very much awake.

"Hey, Boss," Tony grinned from ear to ear. "It's really good to see you awake, as opposed to the last I saw you," he told him as the lead agent was moving to sit up.

"Likewise, DiNozzo," was all Gibbs could think to say.

"Hey, Probie, would you mind grabbin' me a gingerale? My stomach's feelin' a little queasy."

"Are you okay?" Tim furrowed a brow.

"Yeah, just...part of the hangover, I imagine."

"Okay, sure. You want anything, Boss?" Gibbs shook his head. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he told them and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Tony pushed up out of his chair, cautiously, as Gibbs swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "You shouldn't be getting up," Tony told him as he approached the bed. But as he reached his boss, Gibbs unexpectedly pulled him into a fierce hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, tightly; their temples meshing together.

Tony, at first, had caught Gibbs' sides to stabilize himself. But then wrapped his arms around the man's torso and hugged him back. The wall that had been holding back all of his fears and anxieties, came crashing down suddenly, and he couldn't hold back the sobs that silently shook his shoulders. Gibbs only held him tighter.

"I thought you weren't gonna wake up," Tony said through his tears. "Thought I was gonna lose you..."

"Sshh," Gibbs brought one hand up to the back of Tony's head in effort to calm him. "It's okay, Tony. Everything's okay."

"I'm sorry... What I did was stupid, and I'm sorry... But it was an accident. I didn't mean to do it, Gibbs..."

"I know," he rocked a bit side to side. "I know you didn't mean it, but it's good to hear it from you." He pulled his arms away and laid his hands on Tony's shoulders, gently pushing him a bit so he could appraise him. "I'm glad you're okay, Tony."

Tony swiped furiously at his face to rid of the tears. "I'm really glad _you're_ okay," he replied, adding a breathy laugh to break up the tearful reunion. "I owe you a bottle of bourbon... One I'll most likely need to pass on helping you through."

Gibbs shook his head and watched Tony half-stumble back to his chair, "You alright?"

Tony nodded, "Little light-headed and..." he held his breath as he shifted in the seat, "Nauseous... standard hangover material, ya know?"

"More than a hangover, DiNozzo," he said in a low voice.

Tony met his eyes. "You should lie back down, Boss...shouldn't be up like that. What if you get dizzy and fall over? There's no one stable enough to rescue you," he smirked.

Gibbs returned the smirk and resigned to follow the instructions...

**11 00 11 00 11**

**Tbc...**


	46. Old Year's End

Christmas Observed

6 Days Later...

Gibbs had been released from the hospital the day before New Year's Eve. Per Abby's request, they had their Christmas morning the next day. Everyone was there. They'd happily, and even tearfully, exchanged gifts and had a big breakfast together.

The majority of the gang bid their goodbyes around 1400. McGee needed to head to Sarah's; Ziva had a flight out to her friend in California that afternoon. Abby would be back that evening to celebrate the coming of the New Year with Tony, Gibbs and Jackson.

But for now, the house was quiet and clean. Everyone had helped to put it back in order before leaving, knowing Gibbs would be more likely to rest that way. Jackson had gone upstairs for a nap and Tony had started a fresh pot of coffee.

He entered the living room, glancing at his boss who'd stayed firmly planted in his seat on the couch since after breakfast. Tony knew it was because he didn't like the concerned glances at his need for assistance walking. But he also knew Gibbs had had enough coffee for several trips to the bathroom, and hadn't asked, even once, to be helped there.

Looking at him now, he knew Gibbs had to go. Wordlessly, he made his way to the couch and gently grabbed onto his boss's bicep, indicating that he was there to help him up. Gibbs glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for just a moment, before grabbing onto Tony's other outstretched hand and hoisting himself up.

He didn't need quite as much help as he had in the hospital, which was a good sign. But he still felt like an older man than his own father, and that annoyed him to no end. Luckily, he hadn't resisted any of the help Tony had offered. But the manner in which the senior field agent had helped, hadn't been out of pity; he'd done it in such a way that showed that he was more than happy to do it.

Tony got him to the bathroom door and left Gibbs to getting the rest of the way in by himself, as always. He walked away to give him privacy, and waited for the sound of flushing, to return.

Such had been the pattern since Tony had been technically released, the day after Christmas. But Tony never left the hospital until Gibbs did. And Gibbs, surprisingly enough, didn't tell him to, either.

**11 00 11 00 11**

10...

Somehow, Jackson managed to pass out again well before the countdown began. Though it was suspected that the Jack Daniels had assisted. He dozed in the armchair as the rest of them sat on the couch.

9...

Abby giggled when Jackson snored a bit loudly, and in reaction, Tony couldn't help but to laugh as well.

8...

Gibbs smirked as he watched the two beside him on the couch. Normally, he'd have this very telecast on downstairs where he could work on his boat and enjoy his bourbon in peace. But this year...well, it felt right to have people there with him.

7...

"Okay, which one of you is gonna kiss me at midnight?" Tony said, at first a bit seriously, but couldn't help the slightly drunken laughter that followed.

6...

"What make ya think you're gonna get kissed at all, DiNozzo?" Gibbs quirked an amused brow.

5...

"I always get a New Year's kiss, Boss," he defended. "Even if it's a little late because of work..."

4...

"From who? McGee?" Gibbs asked, jokingly. Tony's incredulous face blushed so furiously that the lead agent couldn't help but to burst out laughing.

3...

"Oooo kinky," Abby said, with a seductive grin. Tony buried his face in his hands and murmured something along the lines of an absolute refusal.

2...

What he didn't see, was the two of them signing to each other as his eyes were covered. Abby had something up her sleeve, and Gibbs was just tipsy enough to give in without a fight.

1...

As the crowd cheered on the television, and music played as they shouted, 'Happy New Year', Tony sat back up, hoping what was said had been long forgotten. "Happy New Year, guys," he said with a slight grin as he looked forward at the screen.

Suddenly, there were two faces mashed up on either side of his. It took him a moment to realize, and with the help of overly-exaggerated kissy noises, that they were both giving him a smooch on each cheek. He was frozen there until they simultaneously pulled away with laughter.

"Happy New Year, Tony," Abby told him with a smug grin in place at her masterful plan's succession.

"Yeah," Gibbs smirked, "Got your kiss after all."

"That's so not what I meant..." he glanced between the both of them; cheek re-reddened.

Gibbs laughed again, then ruffled the agent's hair, "Happy New Year, DiNozzo..."

**11 00 11 00 11**

**~End~**

**A/N: Yep! That was the end! Sorry for lack of warning lol. Hope it was satisfying enough though! I'm ready to get started on another- hopefully in time for my one-year NCIS fanfic anniversary :D. (2/8) **

**If you haven't already, find me on Facebook... :)**


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